


Brother Mine

by Laily



Series: Capsule Collection: Tales of Magic, of Sorrow, Joy and of Love [2]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Loki: Where Mischief Lies, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avenger Loki (Marvel), BAMF Loki (Marvel), BAMF Stephen Strange, Brotherly Love, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel) Lives, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki Whump, M/M, Mpreg, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Pregnant Loki (Marvel), Protective Stephen Strange, Protective Thor (Marvel), Romance, Sick Loki (Marvel), Slow Burn, Stephen Strange Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-22 14:37:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 72,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20875859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laily/pseuds/Laily
Summary: Do you lie awake worrying when your only brother is out at night? Thor does.A tale of two sorcerers, night and day in temperament, forced to face the consequences of one night together.Sister fic to The Contract.





	1. Chapter 1

“Late night, Brother?”

“Not late enough, obviously.” Loki sighed in exasperation. “_Please_ tell me you were not waiting up for me.”

“Naww…” Thor drawled. He was looking all shades of guilty as charged, though. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh my, what could have given you away?” Loki cocked an eyebrow, feigning wonder. “Could it be the latch sitting between the door and the frame? You may be the God of Thunder and all but even you would never leave the door unlocked while you’re asleep.”

“So where did you two go then?”

“Who?”

“You and the wizard?”

“I wasn’t – we weren’t – ” Loki’s voice trailed at the look on his older brother’s face.

“Loki.” Thor did not sound angry. There was a gentleness in his voice Loki had not heard in a long time, too long that he did not know quite how to respond.

Loki hoped a casual shrug would suffice to shake Thor off his tail and put his overbearing brother at ease. “Just went out for a stroll.”

“A stroll, indeed.” A quick glance at the clock and Thor noted with varying degrees of apprehension mixed with glee and a touch of perturbance the late hour.

“It’s 3 a.m. Must be one Hel of a stroll.”

“Sarcasm does not suit you, Thor.”

Thor raised his giant hands in mock surrender. “You are mistaking concern for sarcasm, Brother.”

When Loki’s facial expression took on one of complete bafflement, Thor supposed he must elaborate, for he would like to think he had grown more observant over the years, especially in matters concerning his wayward brother.

“That’s not a bruise I see on your head, is it? And why are you limping?”

“Am not,” Loki said irritably.

“Are too.”

“Am not!” Loki said hotly. He held a hand to his hip and tried to pretend Thor did not just hit it right on the nose. Perhaps he had overdone it, just a little bit –

“Did he hurt you?” Thor’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He remembered what the human sorcerer did to his brother the first time they met all those years ago.

“No!” Loki nearly shouted. Raising his voice did nothing for the peculiar ache in his loins, and Loki sank heavily into the settee not occupied by his brother.

“It’s just a muscle strain,” he mumbled finally.

Thor’s eyes softened.

“Do excuse my forwardness, Loki, but this is the first time you’ve been out by yourself on a social capacity ever since you became one of the Avengers –”

Loki’s legendary temper stirred. “I am not an Avenger! I am not one of anything!”

“What are you then?” Thor asked coolly.

Loki threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know, a vigilante? A consultant? Freelancer?”

A snort of disbelief. “How can I be an Avenger when the purpose behind the creation of the Avengers was to defeat me?”

“It wasn’t really you,” Thor reminded him quietly.

A look of pure pain crossed Loki’s features before it disappeared in the fraction of a second. “Well, whatever I am, I am not one of you.”

Throwing Thor a look of disgust, Loki forgot all about concealing his discomfort and grimaced as he pushed himself off the settee. “And I certainly do not need a babysitter.”

Thor watched in amusement as Loki hobbled to his room. “You want some ice for that?”

“I am not two hundred anymore, Thor!” Loki yelled, and slammed the door in his face.

Thor hummed noncommittally and ambled in the direction of the drinks trolley.

It was a nice suite friend Stark had gotten for them, he decided as he perused the choice of alcohol beverages at his disposal, all high-end, perhaps too high-end for a nightcap.

Ah well. Thor poured himself a shot of something he could not quite identify but smelled just on the right side of potent.

He listened to the sounds of Loki pottering about in his room and doing absolutely nothing to preserve the silence; for such a high-end hotel, the walls were pretty thin – it was a good thing Tony Stark had the entire floor booked out then.

He heard the thumps of two somethings hit Loki’s door from the inside, presumably his boots, and Thor marveled not for the first time at how far they had come.

His indulgent smile wavered slightly.

It was almost three years now, to the day they had defeated Thanos, and with the return of loved ones thought forever lost to The Snap, Thor had been given a new life, a chance to start anew.

He thanked the Norns every day that he was starting it with his brother by his side.

He had left the settlement of New Asgard in the good hands of his third-in-command, the Lady Valkyrie, and from the daily reports he was receiving, Thor was more than pleased with the progress. Governing from afar and still fighting the good fight alongside his friends and now, Loki?

Thor was living the good life.

Why Loki had chosen to join him instead of staying in New Asgard and ruling in his stead, Thor had never asked, but he suspected it had something to do with the fact that neither wanted to leave the other out of his sight for very long. It did take a miracle to bring Loki back from the dead this time.

The sound of soft, gentle snoring emanated from Loki’s room and it confirmed what Thor had known all along; things could not be better, and if only their parents were still alive, they could probably, finally be proud of what Thor and Loki had become.

“Good night, Brother.”

*******************************

Thor must have only drifted off when he heard it; a low moan, long and keening.

He groaned loudly himself and was about to pull a pillow over his face to drown out the sound of what could only be lovers engaged in coitus when another sharp cry stopped him.

It sounded close, too close. And it sounded like –

“Loki?”

Thor vaulted off his bed and padded across the carpeted floor. He opened his door and peered outside.

The two-bedroom suite was quite large by Midgardian standards but it seemed to carry sound easily and Thor listened with growing alarm as Loki moaned again.

He strode across the living room.

“Brother?” Thor knocked urgently on the door. “Are you alright?”

Loki did not answer. Thor tried the knob. It was locked, naturally.

“Loki, open the door.”

“Thor…” a weak voice called out, and that was the last straw. Sparks sizzled the tips of his fingers. Thor short-circuited the electronic lock, and gave the door a hard shove when it did not give way soon enough.

He found Loki very much awake, huddled against the wall in the farthest corner of the bed, his slight frame visibly shaking.

“What’s wrong?” Thor frowned deeply. Loki’s naturally pale face was chalk-white against what little moonlight that managed to seep through the slightly-parted block-out curtains, his black hair matted to his scalp like a crown of thorns.

“I don’t know,” Loki gasped. Beads of sweat ran down the side of his face and pooled in the notch between his neck and collarbone. “Thor, it _hurts_.”

“Where?” Thor could not see, what with Loki curled up so tightly around himself –

“My stomach.” Loki’s teeth chattered as they ground involuntarily against each other as he rocked himself back and forth, but the beast clawing away deep in his pelvis was unrelenting in its viciousness and Loki wondered if this was what dying again felt like.

“Never – ” A sharp, short breath, “- felt anything like this.”

Not even Algrim’s Kursed blade had hurt this much.

“Can’t you heal yourself?” Thor demanded.

Loki shook his head wildly, eyes crazed and bright with pain and panic. “My magic’s not working.”

So teleporting back to Asgard was not an option then. In the blink of an eye, Stormbreaker had found its way to Thor’s grasp.

He moved to wrap his arm around his brother, and icy dread filled his heart when Loki obligingly leaned into him, something he had not done since he was very little. Thor wondered if Loki could hold on to him throughout the entire journey to Asgard, what with the way his arms were trembling as they clung to Thor’s neck.

Thor had barely lifted him off the bed when the invisible scythe slashed through Loki’s insides again and an explosion of pain erupted in a blinding, searing blitz of agony, and Loki _screamed_.

Thor’s blood curdled. He had only ever heard screams like that in the bloodiest, most horrific of battlefields.

He hastily laid Loki as gently as he could back onto the bed. Locked in the tetanic spasms of pain, Loki was not releasing his precarious hold around his brother’s neck and Thor stumbled over his profuse apologies as he extricated himself. “I am sorry, Brother, I am so, so sorry – ”

“Don’t leave me...” Loki whispered a desperate plea amid desperate tears of pain and a sickening _fear_.

_Please_.

The black spots speckling his vision blotted out Thor’s face.

As if sensing his faltering senses and dimming consciousness, Thor grabbed his hand and gave it a fierce squeeze.

“Never. I’ll never leave you.” But not a second later, Loki found himself grappling empty air.

“Thor,” he wept.

“Hold on, Brother. I will seek help.” A hand palmed his forehead and brushed his sweat-soaked hair out of his face.

Loki leaned in to the grounding sensation of his brother’s rough, calloused fingers against his skin. The pain was robbing him of all senses, save for touch. He knew not should he close his eyes now if he would open them again.

“Just hold on,” he heard Thor dimly say once more but Loki could not hold on any longer; he was simply glad it was Thor by his side at the end, as Thor had been at all his ends before.

Loki let out a final sigh, and succumbed to the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this because I was wanting some Thor/Loki HC goodness. I meant for it to be a drabble but of course, I got carried away. Sorry there is no Stephen, but I do love writing Thor and Loki, I had forgotten just how much.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This takes place immediately after the [first chapter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667962/chapters/41670110) of The Contract.

“What of my brother, Wizard?” Thor demanded, just as Stephen quietly opened the front door to their suite. The fear had never quite left his eyes, even if Loki had stopped screaming in pain a good ten minutes ago. If anything, it was making him even more agitated, not knowing if Loki’s silence be from the relief of pain, or unconsciousness, or worse –

“Is he _alive?”_

Stephen gave him an odd look, and a halting, “Yes.”

That was not telling Thor anything. Stephen was still standing in the middle of the door.

He remembered of times long gone when they were younger and he would pace outside the golden doors of Asgard’s Healing Halls, awaiting news on his brother’s condition. Be it down to Loki’s…unique constitution or simply luck (or lack of), minor illnesses were almost never just that. The symptoms were never typical, never mild whenever it was Loki.

Their beloved mother the Queen would fuss at the first sign of a sniffle or a cough; it was only after centuries did Thor finally find out why.

So yes, seeing this Dr Stephen Strange standing between him and his brother, just like their Healers had done on so many occasions, unnerved him. And if Thor did not know better, he would think the human wizard was barring him entry into his own room.

As there were only so many reasons why Stephen Strange would do such a thing, his heart plummeted. “Is he going to live?”

There was a crack in Thor’s voice Stephen did not understand. He gave the God of Thunder an even odder look, and a more guarded, “Yes.”

Thor may not be as perspicacious or as sharp as Loki, but he was no fool. The wizard had a suspicious look about him and his face, though still largely impassive and expressionless, could not conceal the turbulence in his deep-set eyes.

“What are you not telling me, Sorcerer?”

Stephen finally stepped outside the room and closed the door behind him with a soft click. He did not turn around immediately. “Thor, we need to talk.”

Thor looked at the closed door, ominous and silent. “And you do not wish Loki present?”

“Loki knows,” Stephen said quietly. “He would have liked to tell you himself, but he needs his rest. And I’m afraid this can’t wait any longer.”

His chest felt near bursting from the jumble of emotions warring for dominance – fear, guilt, anxiety. There was also a little bit of excitement hiding in there somewhere too, he reckoned, judging from his still-racing heart, and if he was being honest, it had nothing to do with the horrifying prospect of facing up to the God of Thunder himself.

Something caught Stephen’s eye and he turned to see someone poking his head out into the corridor. Curiously, it was the occupant of the room next to his own, down the other end of the hallway.

“Everything alright, guys?” Steve Rogers’ voice was not particularly loud but it carried, echoing down the corridor despite the acoustic dampening of the Axminster carpet.

Thor looked to Stephen challengingly to respond, for the answer lay with the wizard after all.

“Everything is fine, Captain.” Stephen met Thor’s intense gaze head-on, made all the more intense by his heterochromic eyes, and it took Stephen a great deal of willpower not to break eye contact.

Loki’s brother had a presence like no one else, no being Stephen had ever faced.

Dormammu may have killed him a million times over, but Thor looked as though he could incinerate you with just one look.

“Yes,” Thor said slowly. Following Stephen’s lead, Thor crossed his arms and gave Steve a smile that did not quite reach his eyes.

“Just sleepless, Captain. Good thing our good Doctor here is an early-riser,” Thor said lightly, but his eyes were hard.

Captain Rogers stared at them suspiciously. Clearly he had sensed something amiss.

“Would you like to join us for a very early morning coffee, Captain?” Thor asked courteously. From the look of his tousled blond hair, Steve’s sleep had clearly been interrupted, and if there was one thing Thor had learnt quickly about Midgardians was that reverse psychology worked very well on them.

The ever well-mannered Steve Rogers looked suddenly uncomfortable. Stephen fidgeted, knowing it was only a matter of time before somebody else awoke. “Go back to bed, Steve. Sorry if we woke you.”

A look of distaste crossed the Captain’s handsome features for a fleeting second, but a yawn caught up to him; he blinked blearily a few times before giving them a wave and finally retreating back into his room without a word.

“Now where were we?” Thor rounded on Stephen, looking ready once again to tear somebody’s heart out.

“Not here,” Stephen simply answered and in the blink of an eye, transported them both outside the hotel complex onto open ground.

Thor looked around. His face darkened when he recognised the gentle slopes around him as the hundred-acre golf course located a few hundred yards away from the main hotel building.

He did not like the idea of leaving Loki alone when his brother was so grievously ill.

The nerve of this human sorcerer, tearing him away from Loki’s side when he needed him most.

“I am not in the mood for golf, Wizard,” Thor growled. “But if it’s a fight you are looking for, you are going to get it if you do not tell me what is going on right this instant.”

There simply was no easing into it, no warning shots Stephen could give to prepare either of them for the inevitable; certainly not when Stephen could feel the static energy rustling the air around him, bristling the hairs on the back of his neck.

So Stephen broke the news the only way he knew how: succinct and to-the-point, for he did not think he could bear it if Thor should misunderstand and demand a repeat broadcast –

“Loki is pregnant.”

_“What?”_

Stephen took a deep breath.

It appeared as though he was going to have repeat himself after all.

“Loki is with child,” Stephen enunciated his words slowly so that whatever universal translator these Viking Space Gods used, it would not get anything lost in translation.

From the way Thor suddenly recoiled in horror, his jaw clamped shut, Stephen had a feeling that Thor had not misheard him the first time; he only wished he had.

How? When –?

_Who?_

Far be it from Thor to meddle in his brother’s personal affairs, but Loki had not shown any interest in anyone in recent times. Like him, the rebuilding of New Asgard took precedence over any other pursuit of momentary pleasure

_Momentary._

Thor stared at Stephen, remembering the way Loki had stumbled into their room late last night, remembered him looking unusually dishevelled and unsteady –

By the Norns.

Thor remembered how _he_ was the one who made Loki stay, he who sat his brother next to this human sorcerer – the very one who had trapped his brother in a bottomless time loop and left him there to fall with no end in sight.

For all he knew, this Stephen Strange was out to get Loki, just like everything else out there in the universe, and Thor felt something beginning to stir inside him, red and hot and _furious_.

“Was it you?” He asked softly.

When Stephen did not answer right off the bat, tendrils of electricity began to slither up and down the length of his hand and forearm. “Is it yours?”

Stephen remained in continual silence.

The sorcerer's reticence erased all doubt from Thor’s mind, and he blanched. “Do you realise what you have done?”

Stephen’s eyes narrowed. It had been a long time since he had had to explain himself to anyone, and he was not about to start now.

“Whatever you think I may have done, Thor, _believe_ me, it was not deliberate. I am only here to give Tony Stark my support as his friend, and I never meant to do anything untoward.”

Stephen's heart began to race when Thor remained stock-still but his energy kept rising and rising; it was tangible in the atmosphere, sharp and prickling.

“Now I don’t know your brother –”

“Damn right you don’t.”

“I may not know him but whatever happened last night, I’m sure he would like to keep it between us,” Stephen said coolly. “We are all consenting adults after all.”

“There is a reason why Loki had not been with child in hundreds of years, Sorcerer.” Thor’s voice was shaking with anger. “I am having a hard time believing he was a willing party in all…this.”

“Then you might want to ask him yourself how it happened because I certainly did not see this coming.”

“Oh, you didn’t, did you?” Thor said mockingly. “And I am supposed to believe that, coming from Earth’s greatest sorcerer, the man who sees everything?”

“It matters not what you believe,” Stephen said, his voice becoming more heated. “What matters is that there is a _baby_, an actual baby coming – ”

“Potentially,” Thor cut in dangerously.

“ – whether the King of Asgard likes it or not.” Stephen narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“He is not exactly human, is he?”

“If he were, he wouldn’t have fallen pregnant in the first place, would he?” Stephen replied in the same sarcastic manner. “I would be sleeping in my bed right now and we would not be having this conversation, would we?”

“Loki would no sooner expose himself to the risk of impending death than consort with a mortal like you.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Stephen snorted. Thor’s penchant for Midgardian women (one Midgardian woman actually) was an open secret Thor never really recovered from, if the stories he heard from the other Avengers were anything to be believed.

But something Thor said piqued his curiousity. He frowned slightly. “Impending death?”

Thor did not appear placated by his ignorance; in fact, it infuriated him even more. “All because you were _careless_.”

Stephen did not remember the last time he had felt so chastised, certainly not since he was a schoolboy, and he had had enough.

“You came to _me_,” Stephen hissed. “You came to me for help because you knew no one else would and no one else could!”

“Oh so now he is a burden to you?” Thor demanded. “You are no match for us, Sorcerer. Either of us.”

An irresistible urge to reach up and tear his hair out by the root overcame Stephen and he suppressed an internal scream.

“A lowly mortal like me going up against the likes of you? You do give me too much credit, _Majesty_.”

“So you are saying _Loki_ is at fault?” Thor raged.

“I am not saying that at all, Thor!” Stephen said hotly. What _was_ with these alien space gods and their tendency to misinterpret everything he said? “It caught him by surprise, just as much as it did me!”

He was glad he had taken them away, there was no way this was going to end well. Stephen never realised it before but Thor looked double his usual size when enraged.

“What have you done to him? Did you kill him?”

Stephen could not believe his ears. _“What?”_

“There is no way Loki would take this sitting down, if as you said, it is something you both did not anticipate.” Thor reared his head, his eyes flashing. Electricity scorched the earth at his feet, the grass wilting and browning from the heat.

When he spoke again, his voice was low, guttural. Deadly. “So either he is dead, or you incapacitated him.”

Stephen felt a gust of wind graze his cheek and when he opened his eyes again, Stormbreaker was in Thor’s hand, crackling with static energy. “Which is it?”

To _hell_ with diplomacy.

A thin, whistling sound pierced the air, and a split-second later, Stephen felt the familiar weight of the Cloak as it settled around his shoulders. His hands began to glow.

The first bolt of lightning he deflected easily with his shield.

The same went with the second, the third.

The fourth one scorched his Mandala shield and would have obliterated it had Thor held fast just for a few seconds longer. It seemed Stephen had underestimated the depth of Thor’s wrath; perhaps the God of Thunder really was looking to kill him.

When the fifth bolt of lightning near-singed The Cloak when it shielded him from a direct hit, Stephen decided he had been on the defensive for long enough.

He lashed out and a golden whip wrapped around Thor’s wrist and Stephen spread his arms apart in the attempt to catch Thor’s other wrist, but he realised too late that he was in the direct line of fire for Thor was already flinging Stormbreaker at him with all his might –

Stephen swiftly flung his body to the side, barely missing the enchanted axe by an inch. He was about to exhale a breath of relief when he felt his feet sink in something wet.

He looked down and his heart sank. In his haste to save himself from Stormbreaker’s deadly trajectory, he had stepped into a water hazard.

To Stephen's dismay, Thor must have realised this too, for he was now summoning his lightning with his bare hands.

The Cloak must now decide if it should lift Stephen out of the pond, or shield her Master's body from the on-coming bolt of lightning – it could not do both.

In the darkness of the night, Stephen could not see Thor’s face clearly; for the life of him he could not tell which way Thor was going to electrocute him.

The air around them bristled with magic, and Stephen braced himself –

But the devastating blow never came.

When the blinding light died down and intense heat dissipated, Stephen cracked open an eye.

He found himself staring at the stiff outline of someone’s back.

_Loki?_

Beyond the blackness of Loki's tall, looming form was a glowing obelisk of energy, made corporeal by the sheer density of his seidr. The shield towered over them both, its green glow incandescent across the fairways and roughs.

Stephen scrambled out of the hazard. “What the _hell_ are you doing out here?”

“Strange, best if you leave us.” For all the calmness in his voice, Loki’s hands were visibly shaking when they finally dropped to his side. The shield shimmered and flickered before evanescing out of existence.

“Loki!” Thor bellowed at the sight of him. His rage needed to be appeased and his brother was standing in the way. “Step aside.”

“Thor, stop it!” Loki hissed.

Stephen did not know when Stormbreaker returned to Thor’s grasp, but the God of Thunder was now pointing it in their direction. At _him_ specifically. “I will have you executed for this.”

He moved to step around Loki but a vambraced arm shot out, keeping Stephen from taking a step further and effectively behind him.

“No one is going to execute anybody, Thor,” Loki spat. “We are not on Asgard anymore, or did you forget?”

Without turning his head, he murmured. “Strange, go. Now.”

Stephen stared at the back of Loki’s head angrily.

It was unthinkable, what Loki was telling him to do. His pride would not have it.

Before Stephen could retort something scathing in kind, Loki wavered where he stood and his knees buckled; had Stephen not swiftly caught him as he fell, Loki would have slumped to the ground.

It was only when Loki stiffened in his arms and hid his face that it finally occurred to Stephen; Loki wanted him to retreat not because he feared Stephen would lose.

The sight of his brother doubled over on the ground was the emotional coolant Thor did not realise he needed, and he ran, reaching Loki’s side in record time.

“Why is he still ill?” Thor demanded.

Stephen shook his head helplessly.

“It’s the teleporting,” Loki gasped. The world was still spinning out of control, and no amount of deep breathing was helping. He could not believe the meagre effort of something so simple, so natural to him should drive him to his knees. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

Loki felt a hand wrap around his upper arm, and he swatted it away. It mattered not to him whose it was.

His eyes watered as he valiantly fought the urge to vomit. If he were not feeling so dreadful, the humiliation alone would kill him.

Stephen hid his smarting hand, holding it against the small of his back. He stared at Loki’s hunched form. His feet were not obeying his command no matter how he tried to get them to move and just _leave_, leave this place and this berserk God and

_Loki._

No.

He promised he would not. They were in this together, Loki and him.

Stephen let his well-honed clinical instincts take over, and a quick Mudra later, a portal loomed before them.

“Loki,” he called out gently. “Let’s get you back to your room.”

This time, Loki did not argue. Wordlessly, he allowed both Thor and Stephen to help him up and pull him along, keeping his eyes closed the whole time to keep the vertigo at bay.

A tense ten minutes later, Stephen stepped outside of Loki’s bedroom for the second time that night.

No, it is already morning now, he corrected himself. Goodness. And to think that he nearly declined Tony Stark’s invitation to his stag night.

Well. Tony did promise Stephen it was going to be a night to remember.

“We should let him sleep a little bit longer this time,” Stephen said. He did not mean for his words to come across as sharp as they did.

The only indication that the golden figure sitting so stiffly in the living room had heard him was a subtle nod.

With a tired sigh, Stephen sank into the armchair opposite him.

“For all it’s worth, Thor...I did not mean for this to happen.”

Still Thor said nothing. He neither moved nor blinked.

“But I will not say I’m sorry. Because I am not. I _cannot_.” Stephen kept his arms and his body language open. He was not on the defensive anymore. “I will see this through.”

At Stephen’s firm words, Thor finally snapped out of his rigid, statue-like countenance and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly as if in prayer.

Steadfastly avoiding Stephen’s gaze, Thor finally spoke. “You will do right by my brother?”

“And our child, yes.”

“I have your word?”

Stephen held out a stein of beer he had magicked out of thin air, dark and vinous just the way he remembered Thor liking it.

“I’m still here, Thor,” he said lightly.

Thor stared at him for the longest time.

Just when Stephen’s shaking, damaged hand was about to lose all muscle power, Thor saved the drink from dropping by plucking it out of his precarious grip.

“Right you are, brother.” Thor downed the ice-cold beer in one go and amazingly did it while keeping his steel-blue eyes locked on Stephen like ready-to-launch missiles. “Right you are.”

He dropped the empty stein on the glass coffee table with a loud clunk. Foam dribbled down the side of the mug and collected at its base in a pool of froth. “Another.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are new to The Capsule Collection universe, I do recommend reading The Contract first, for I intend to write the missing scenes from Thor's POV as the events unfold, but of course, go for it whichever way you fancy. 
> 
> For those wondering why I am writing this filler fic instead of the next instalment to the CC...it's because I've got other commitments I need to mentally focus on at the moment, but at the same time I need to let off some steam and this is the way I do it. ^^;; But thanks for giving the fic a chance, even if we all know the plot already, lol. 
> 
> Onward and upward! (Do feel free to say hello, I love hearing from readers. )


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place between [ Chapter 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667962/chapters/42368345#workskin) and [Chapter 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667962/chapters/42439523#workskin) of The Contract.

Tony took his sunglasses off. He methodically wiped the lenses in slow circles with his handkerchief, one after the other. He did not put them back on immediately.

“What’s with him?” Tony gestured with the temple of his shades at the unfolding scene before him.

Sitting perched on a bar stool at the kitchen island, Bruce turned at the waist to take a look and immediately frowned. Only moments ago, the Odinson brothers had helped themselves to some breakfast and taken it outside to eat on the balcony. Presumably.

Only now Loki was hanging over the railing, half-inside and half-dangling out into the open air. Thor was rubbing circles on his brother’s back, and judging by how brazenly Thor was fussing, Loki had to be as sick as a dog to allow it.

“Must have picked up a bug.”

“Another one?” Tony scoffed lightly. “Jeez, what am I keeping him around for if he keeps pulling a sickie on us?”

Bruce was quiet for a while, his face oddly serious. “I think it’s the same bug.”

“What?”

“The one he picked up from your bachelor party.”

Tony’s expression wavered from crude disbelief to ‘you’re joking’ to ‘are you sure?’ and finally settled on a semi-guilty ‘Shit’.

“But that was weeks ago!” Tony walked over to the middle of the kitchen to take a closer look. Loki was still bent over the railing; what little of his upper body Tony could see was visibly shuddering as he heaved over and over so violently had it not been for the soundproof glass, the sounds Loki must be making would probably make Tony want to lose his breakfast too. And he hadn’t even eaten it yet.

“You think it’s contagious?” Tony wrinkled his nose.

“If it were, I think one of us would have caught it already.”

“Must be an Asgardian thing then.” Tony’s face brightened. He liked blame when it was on something else, and not him.

But then again, if it turned out to be some infectious disease contracted from the hotel, Tony could sue the management and get back the money he had had to fork out to pay for the damages his ‘guests’ had caused; the list was extensive: two bedroom doors (one short-circuited, another torn at the hinges, both courtesy of the Mighty Thor), putting greens destroyed, the grass upheaved with entire patches of land degloved, trees burnt to cinders…also courtesy of the Mighty Thor.

At this rate, Tony Stark was probably going to get married in a barn. And not the glamourous, rustic kind either.

“He’s still refusing to see a doctor?”

“Loki? See a doctor?” Bruce snorted. “The guy set his own broken leg in the field, Tony. And wounds he couldn’t suture himself, he got Thor to cauterise them for him with his lightning.”

Tony shrugged. “So he’s one crazy son of a bitch. At least he’s cheap. All he eats nowadays is toast.”

“Shhh, they’re coming back in –” Bruce hissed.

“Loki, I think we should seek hel –”

“Shut _up_, Thor,” Loki snapped in a voice still rough and garbled from too much saliva and too little water.

He was about to slam the sliding door in Thor’s face with magic when he caught sight of Thor pulling out his phone from his jeans pocket –

“What do you think you’re doing?” Loki snarled and lashed out an arm and a spell; the phone flew out of Thor’s hand and slammed into the wall, crashing into a million tiny pieces on the balcony floor.

Both Tony and Bruce winced at Thor’s anguished cry, _“Hey!!!”_

As though the simple act of magic had sapped the life out of him, Loki rocked back on his heels and stumbled drunkenly backward; the only thing that kept him from colliding with the kitchen counter was the quick action of one Bruce Banner who caught him around the bend of his elbow.

“Let go,” Loki growled. There was the unmistakable smell of vomit on his breath, and red around the rims of his sunken eyes.

“Would you like some tea?” Bruce asked gently, holding out a cup under his nose.

Loki caught a whiff of the tannic steam and immediately recoiled. He bared his teeth, wrenched his arm out of Bruce’s grasp, and stormed out of the kitchen, with Thor following fast at his heels.

“Ouch.” Tony patted Bruce’s back in a solemn show of solidarity. “Pepper gets that way sometimes. The only way to get the snarl off her face is to ply her with chocolates and a hot water bottle.”

“It must not work because your Iron Man hot water bottles aren’t selling all that well,” Bruce said lightly.

Tony tsk-tsked. “If only she’d let me upload the pictures I took of her the last menstrual cycle on Instagram.”

Bruce levelled him with a look of pure contempt. “I will not even entertain that with a comment.”

Tony laughed. “Shit, Bruce. You should have seen your face.”

Bruce was about to retort something passive-aggressive before the sudden flare of heat scorching his back startled him and he whirled around. “What the hell?”

An increasingly familiar figure dressed in an increasingly familiar flamboyant manner stepped out of a portal.

With no salutation, no hello, no decorum befitting one of such station on Earth and in life in general – “Where is he?”

“Waldo? No one knows,” Tony said absently, stealing a cherry tomato off Bruce’s plate.

The muscles at Stephen’s jaw twitched. “Don’t.”

“Then you just have to be more specific, don’t you.”

Stephen growled in frustration. “Loki,” he finally ground out through gritted teeth.

“What makes you think he’d be here?” Tony asked coolly.

Stephen balked before he remembered he was talking to someone who did not have an ounce of magic in him.

“Loki’s magic's residue," Stephen explained impatiently. "Surely you can smell it, the air’s saturated with it.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline. “I’m _curious_, Doctor. What does Loki smell like?” He turned to Bruce. “What does he smell like to you, Banner?”

“Piney. Like turpentine.” Because sometimes Bruce needed to have a bit of harmless fun too. Maybe Tony’s tendency to hide his worries and anxieties behind humour was finally rubbing off on him after all these years.

The curiosity was plaguing him too; the Sorcerer had dropped in too many times these past few weeks to call his visits social anymore. 

Stephen stared. “What is the matter with you two?”

It was a rhetorical question for Stephen pointedly turned his back with a swish of the Cloak and marched toward the pantry cabinets.

He boldly opened them one by one and scrutinised the contents, until his eyes fell on a very sparsely stocked compartment, right next to the one almost overflowing with Pop Tarts. His nose curled in disgust, not so much at the Pop Tarts, but at the sight of the lone, shrunken apple sitting in what must be Loki’s pantry.

With a frustrated sigh, Stephen began pulling what looked like loaves of bread out of thin air and shoving them inside, all the while studiously avoiding looking in Tony and Bruce’s direction.

“Sprouted rye. Yum.” Tony could not resist. “And _ooh_, sourdough. I love sourdough. Think I’ve got some courgette soup that would go marvelously with that.”

Stephen remained stubbornly silent. Cans of various nuts and dried fruits went in next.

“Doctor?” Bruce was the next to try his luck. Despite all the bizarre things he had seen in his life, the physicist prided himself as an enlightened realist, but there was something about seeing the Sorcerer Supreme doing a grocery run for the notorious God of Mischief that was quite disillusioning.

Still ignoring everybody, Stephen muttered an unintelligible word and a mist of golden light enshrouded the cabinet, before dissipating into nothingness.

Once he was done, Stephen straightened to his full height and surveyed his stockpiling work with a touch of pride. It showed in his next words and the expression on his face when he finally turned to face the two Avengers who were still staring at him like he had suddenly grown a second head.

“The password is my middle name in a mix of Egyptian hieroglyphics and Japanese hiragana, and the last four digits of my social security number in no particular order,” Stephen said sweetly with an equally sweet, bordering on sadistic smile on his face.

He glided past the kitchen island but the smirk disappeared when he stopped to peer at the untouched mug at Bruce’s elbow.

With a hint of smugness, he commented. “He likes his tea black and strong.”

“Twenty-third floor, Strange!” Tony bellowed helpfully, just before Stephen disappeared out into the hallway, again with a derisive swish of his Cloak.

“Twenty-third floor is Mr Odinson’s floor, Sir,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. reminded him.

“Exactly.”

“Mr _Thor_ Odinson’s.” The A.I. seemed to have a soft spot for Doctor Strange and want to keep him out of harm’s way as was artificial-intelligently possible.

“_Exactly_.” Tony grinned viciously. “Serves him right for booby-trapping my pantry.”

Bruce stared down unhappily into the mug of herbal tea. “But it’s licorice root...”

“Something is going on with those two…” Tony began drumming his fingers on the kitchen counter. “I gotta find out what it is…”

Captain Steve Rogers walked into the kitchen. “Did I just see Doctor Strange in the hallway? Or was that another one of Loki’s illusions?”

Neither Tony nor Bruce answered; Tony was too busy thinking his next move, Bruce his next offering.

A heavy sigh. “Guess I can always try chamomile next.”

Steve slowly approached them at the kitchen island. “What is going on?”

“Thor needs a new phone, Loki hates licorice, and Strange is freelancing at Dial-A-Doctor,” Tony summarised as succinctly as he could. “Guess the magic business doesn’t pay as much.”

“Oh, and I’m suing the hotel.” On what basis, Tony was not all quite sure yet, but he had a feeling he was getting there. Pepper might just get the destination wedding she wanted after all.

Steve stared at him for a few long seconds. And apparently since nothing could faze him anymore, he gave a little nod. “Okay.”

His sunglasses back on his face again, Tony whistled a happy tune as he headed for the balcony with an unidentified breakfast drink in his hand.

“And oh. Whatever you do, don’t touch the sourdough.” There was a muttered curse, followed by a sullen “Magic anthrax.”

_______________________________________

“He is not eating.” Thor wasted no time with small talk. They were barely out of earshot, what with Loki resting only a few doors away, but obviously it was not something that could wait.

“Refusing to eat is hardly an indication for aggressive intervention, Thor. If he could only stop being difficult –” Stephen could not keep the frustration out of his voice.

“He has been vomiting non-stop for weeks, Strange,” Thor said hotly. “He is ill and he is exhausted.”

“Morning sickness is always the worst in the first trimester, Thor. It will get better –”

“You are not listening to me, Sorcerer,” Thor growled. “Loki _cannot_ eat.”

“Small, frequent meals I believe is what I said, Thor.”

“Do you think he hasn’t tried?” Thor hissed.

Stephen straightened to ramrod stiffness.

“My brother is no stranger to starving, Strange. He has gone for weeks without food.” Something akin to grief darkened Thor’s eyes. “But it was never by choice.”

Thor met Stephen’s stunned gaze head-on. “And it certainly isn’t his choice to be…_difficult_ now. Not when he has a babe in his belly, draining him of vital life force as we speak.”

Something in Stephen broke. It felt too much like his pride for it to be anything else.

“What do you wish me to do, Thor?” he asked quietly. “If it were up to me, I’d have Loki stay with me right from the start.”

“But that is not what Loki wants,” Thor said simply. “He does not trust that others would not talk.”

“They are already talking,” Stephen said, still as quietly as before. “I am not an Avenger. I have no business being here, but here I am.”

Thor reared his head in mild horror.

Stephen fought the urge to run a hand through his hair.

“At least tell Banner. He is very adept at starting IV fluids, should Loki need them again.” And from the look of him, he needs them round the clock, Stephen thought silently to himself. Loki was so dehydrated it had taken Stephen ten minutes to find a vein he could stick his needle in and run some much-needed saline and anti-emetic medication.

Thor stared at Loki’s closed bedroom door uncertainly. He remained that way for a long time.

“It is not my secret to tell.” Thor did not turn his head, but his side gaze was now trained on Stephen, a daring look in his eyes. “Surely you have a potion that can help? A spell, a charm, something?”

“I will see what I can find in the books I have on Asgardian medicine,” Stephen said glumly. He did not have many books on Asgardian medicine. He never found the need to…until now.

“You won’t find any,” Thor said hurriedly. “Morning sickness isn’t common among Aesir women.”

Stephen frowned at the sudden break in eye contact and the most peculiar look on Thor’s face.

“Try Jotunnheim,” Thor said hesitantly.

“Jotunn...heim?”

“It is a neighbouring realm, known for its midwifery medicine. Loki…spent some time there…as a child,” Thor said haltingly. “Their physiology is most similar.”

“I will try my best.”

“Do one better and just fix this, Strange.” Thor had his hands on his hips now, the slump of his shoulders screaming frustration and anxiety and _impatience_. “Make him well again.”

Stephen swallowed the lump that had suddenly risen in his throat. “Alright, Thor.”

Thor lifted his head. Stephen could see he was struggling to smile, but in the end, all Thor could manage was an apologetic wave of the hand. “You think I am over-reacting.”

Stephen said nothing. He was no gaslighter; it was not his place to downplay anybody’s reaction to life stressors. Stephen’s impending fatherhood aside, Thor knew Loki better than anyone, and right now, Loki was Thor’s biggest stressor.

“I only do not want my brother to suffer any more than he needs to.”

There was a haunting sadness in Thor’s eyes that hinted at more than just over-protectiveness, and it seemed to say, over and over -

_“Do you not wish the same?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments guys. I'm honoured that this series still holds some interest. As long as there are people reading, I will keep writing. (And for those who've been following [Natural Selection](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20609750/chapters/48935513), yes, that is an entirely separate universe. Hope it's not confusing anybody.)
> 
> Cheers!! (And Happy Halloween!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after [Chapter 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667962/chapters/42439523#workskin) of The Contract.

_“How are we doing this?”_

_“Doing what?”_

_“This.”_

Utter silence settled over the connection.

Stephen was no stranger to long stretches of silence, being one of the only two inhabitants of the New York Sanctum, but now that there was an actual someone waiting at the other end of the silence, it only seemed tense and ominous. 

Footsteps approached from the far end of the corridor, silent, calculated. 

If Stephen had not known to whom the footfalls belonged, alarm bells would have blared in his head for their sheer stealth.

“Does it really surprise you? That we are able to communicate without the inconvenience of actual speech?”

Stephen turned to regard the figure standing at the door, not in the least discountenanced by his visitor’s chiding words.

“I was once a man of science. It is a hard habit to break not to question things I do not yet understand. Especially not when I have developed the superpower to talk into someone’s mind overnight.”

Stephen flicked his wrist and the books strewn haphazardly on the spare reading chair across from him flew across the room to reinsert themselves back into their respective slots on the shelves. 

“I wouldn’t call the press just yet, Strange.” Loki gratefully sank into the vacated chair; there was a persistent ache in his back no amount of magicking had been able to get rid off. “It’s hardly a superpower when it’s just me you can talk to, is it.”

“See, that’s the thing. Why is that? Why just you?”

“Blue whales are the loudest animals on Earth, Doctor. But why is it that you humans cannot hear them?”

“And I suppose you can?”

Loki only smiled kindly.

“Their voices can travel thousands of miles across the sea, Strange. Is it so far-fetched that I can call on you without all the hassle of resorting to cumbersome devices such as your telephones and computers?”

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Sure. Because keeping ravens is so much easier.”

“I told you, the ravens are dead,” Loki said softly. 

An awkward silence ensued.

“I’m sorry, Loki.”

Loki opened eyes he did not realise he had closed. 

“Don’t be, Doctor,” he said breezily, plucking the steaming tea proffered him, letting his fingers brush against Stephen’s hand. “It was not your fault that any of them died. All living things must.”

Stephen watched Loki take a small sip of his black tea. Loki was not talking about birds anymore, that was for sure. 

“Have you ever been in a crowded room and you desperately wanted to catch the attention of someone and you did not want to shout? And you didn’t feel like walking over either?”

Stephen shrugged. “I must have, once or twice.”

“And then what did you do?”

“I…probably stared at the person really, really hard until he or she turned, I suppose.”

“In other words, you called out to him. With your mind.”

“There’s nothing psychic about that. The human brain is good at picking up cues.”

“From right across the room?”

“We’re good at sensing when we’re being watched.”

“It is not that different from what we are doing now.” 

“You are saying that my senses have been heightened?”

“As have mine.” Loki said, sounding almost irritated. “How else can you explain my presence here?”

“You…took a cab?”

Loki gave him a condescending look. “You were thinking of me.”

“You don’t flatter yourself much, do you?”

Loki let his laughter echo across their telepathic connection, tinkling and full of mirth. 

_“You don’t lie much to the God of Lies, do you?”_

Loki watched in fascination as Stephen’s face rose in colour; the rouge tingeing the sorcerer’s high cheekbones was a shade of red Loki had never seen before on him. 

“Clairsentience is hardly a foreign concept among your ‘scientific’ circles, Doctor. Carl Jung himself admitted to having telepathic and telekinetic experiences when he was young.”

“Do you mean to tell me that I have had this ability all this while?” Stephen asked cynically.

“Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t.” Loki studied the shelves upon shelves of books in front of him, his eyes suddenly a thousand miles away.

“How did The Ancient One awaken your dormant powers?”

“She –” _left me stranded on The Everest._

Stephen caught himself. He had never revealed anything about that part of himself to Loki in the short time they had known each other, at least not that he remembered.

“What makes you think The Ancient One had anything to do with that?”

“Deflecting again, Doctor?” Loki was now staring at him with open curiosity. 

Stephen had a strange feeling that Loki was taking down mental notes about him and just the thought of Loki studying him made his skin crawl.

“Don’t read me like one of your books, Loki,” he said lightly, trying to conceal the turbulence rumbling inside him. He did not need to feel more exposed than he already was. 

Loki sank deeper into his chair and leaned backward, tossing his head over the headrest that only came up to the base of his neck. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, Stephen. Maybe all we needed was a catalyst.”

Stephen’s eyes were immediately drawn to Loki’s midsection. Now that Loki was reclining, he could clearly see the beginning of a curve to Loki’s belly, toned and flat up till a week ago. 

“Catalyst,” Stephen murmured. Loki did say not in so many words that he had nothing to do with the reawakening of their so-called telepathic abilities.

“May I?”

Loki had his eyes closed but that did not seem to affect his vision at all for he seemed to know exactly what Stephen wanted. He uncrossed his arms slowly, a sign of his implied consent. 

Stephen went down on one knee and carefully braced himself on the armrest with one hand. The other he slid under the slip of Loki’s sweater, an easier feat now that Loki had discarded his tight leathers in favor of looser, more comfortable clothing. 

The first minute or two he spent feeling Loki’s belly with a more clinical hand. At twelve weeks, the bump was palpable but only just; it was tiny, but it was there. 

My son, Stephen thought. No matter how many times he repeated it in his head, the reality of it all had never truly hit him.

Until now. 

“How’s the sickness?” Stephen had done his best identifying Loki’s constitution, and tweaked Loki’s diet to the best of his abilities to minimise the more unpleasant symptoms of pregnancy. “You eating better?”

“To answer both your questions, much better, thank you.” 

“Good. Your _vata_ feels more balanced now. You should be experiencing less of the sickness and the indigestion,” Stephen gave a dramatic pause, “and the mood swings too. I hope.”

Loki opened his eyes and gave Stephen a blank stare. _Mood? I’ll show you mood._

“Vata?” 

Finally. And here Stephen thought there was nothing Loki’s Allspeak could not translate. 

“The energy of air and space, it dominates your nervous system.”

“Is that Klingon or Elvish? Must be Klingon, because you look like a Trekkie –”

“I do not! And where did you even learn that, anyway? And it’s ayurvedic, by the way –”

“Banner is a closet Trekkie.”

Stephen burst out laughing. “He is?”

Loki joined in, chuckling quietly. But his mirth was cut short when he suddenly winced and arched his back.

“Loki? What’s the matter?” Stephen had automatically lifted his hand off Loki’s belly thinking he was the cause of Loki’s pain, but panic won out and he palmed Loki’s stomach again. “Is it one of those cramps you were talking about?”

“No, no –” Loki ground out through clenched teeth. In his distress, he thought he had grabbed the armrest but found himself grasping Stephen’s wrist instead. 

He reluctantly released his hold around Stephen’s forearm. Stephen did not seem to like being touched very much, if Loki’s previous uninvited attempt to do so was any indication. 

“My back. It’s killing me.”

Stephen frowned. “Since when?”

“Since I woke up this morning. I must have rolled out of bed wrong or something.”

“Turn around, let me see –”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, Strange. It is likely that I may have just pulled a muscle.”

“I’m a neurosurgeon, Loki. I happen to know a thing or two about the spine. I just want to make sure it’s nothing serious like sciatica or a slipped disc or something.”

Loki turned gingerly at the waist until his upper body was facing the backrest of the chair. With a sigh, he rested his forehead against the cushion. 

Stephen ran his hand down the entire length of Loki’s back, starting from the neck, palpating every spine in turn gently. 

“Any pain there?” 

A shake of the head.

“How about here?”

Again, Loki shook his head.

When Stephen reached the two points where Loki’s vertebra met his pelvis, he pressed carefully, and Loki _yelped _and near jumped out of his seat.

“Here?” Stephen thumbed Loki’s sacroiliac joints again, more gently this time, but it was still exquisitely tender. 

“Oh, sweet Norns,” Loki moaned into the armchair. “That _hurts_.”

“Hmm…” Stephen quickly ran through his mental checklist. “Any weakness or loss of sensation in your legs?”

“Problems with your waterworks?” 

“Does the pain shoot down the back of your legs like lightning bolts?”

Loki shook his head to all the questions and laughed at the last. “Thor says hello.”

“You’re hilarious,” Stephen muttered. 

“I think it’s just symphysis pubis dysfunction,” Stephen finally announced. 

“_Just?_” Loki scoffed. “It sounds dire.”

“Hardly. Its colloquial name is pelvic girdle pain. Quite common among pregnant women, really.”

“Why?” Loki moaned aloud. “The baby’s barely the size of a peach, it can’t be all that heavy to be causing me all this pain already.”

“It has nothing to do with the baby, that’s why. It’s the flux of pregnancy hormones, relaxin being the main culprit. It causes joint laxity and the exaggerated lordosis is putting extra stress on your spine.”

A low growl. “Klingon.”

Stephen heaved a sigh. “Basically your joints in your pelvis and your lower back are out of whack. I’ll get you to see a physiotherapist –”

“No.”

“Loki.”

“I don’t want to see anybody.” 

“There’s a whole range of prosthesis, belts, braces that you can wear –”

“I don’t care,” Loki said softly. 

“This can get quite painful the longer we leave it untreated,” Stephen warned.

“I’ll live.” Loki still had not turned around, his face still hidden, his voice muffled. “You said so yourself.”

Stephen sighed again. He placed his palms on the offending areas just over the crest of Loki’s hipbone. 

If all he could offer Loki was some temporary relief, then so be it. 

As Stephen’s numbing spell took effect, he felt Loki start to relax. 

“I suppose I could call the physiotherapist personally and ask him the sort of exercises you can do, things you have to avoid doing and so on.” 

Loki did not say a word. The only indication he had heard Stephen was a very subtle nod into the chair as he surrendered himself to Stephen’s ministrations. 

“And you were right. I was thinking about you,” Stephen said quietly. 

“It is alright to think about me, Doctor.”

Finally, Loki lifted his head and showed his face, but only a side profile. What Stephen could see of his eyes was kind. “I think about you too.”

Stephen’s stomach flipped. It took a while, but he finally remembered his manners and returned the unexpectedly gentle smile with a hesitant one of his own. 

“Yeah?”

Pain in the back finally eased, Loki turned around slowly to fully face him. “Yes.”

“Must be the catalyst,” Stephen heard himself mumble.

Loki shook his head. “It’s all me, I'm afraid.”

Still down on one knee, Stephen was at a tactical disadvantage; if he had been the one in Loki’s position, and Loki his, all it would take to kiss those lips was just a dip of the head and there would be nowhere for Loki to run –

But the spell was broken for Loki suddenly shot out of his seat, narrowly missing kneeing Stephen in the face who by the grace of God and excellent reflexes, had swooped to his feet just a millisecond before. “Your friend is home.”

“What?” Stephen’s heart was still pounding. “No, Wong’s only due back in another hour or so –”

The front door to the Sanctum slammed. “Strange!” 

Stephen stared at Loki in shock.

“Meditation finished an hour early because the Guru’s down with a nasty flu! Wanna go grab a sandwich? Denny’s got a buy one free one thing going on!” Wong hollered from somewhere in the bowel of The Sanctum. 

He must be close, for what he muttered next, he sounded as though he was just outside the door. “God, I hope it’s not avian. It’s those damn birds…”

“I think it’s time for me to leave,” Loki urged. 

“Why not stay for a while longer? We can go to Denny’s, it’s just around the corner –”

Loki shook his head. “I don’t think Master Wong’s quite ready to see me yet.”

“What, the wall thing? He’s over it,” Stephen waved a hand around. “Told him you weren’t yourself.”

“Oh, I was never not myself, Doctor,” Loki said drily. “The least I can do is own up to my own madness, I think.”

Stephen offered to meet Loki half way. “It was as much madness as it was malnutrition then.”

Loki was quiet for a while.

“And you have fixed that for me.” Loki’s eyes were unreadable. “Thank you.”

The portal burned behind Loki, bright and golden. 

“Well. Till we meet again, Doctor.”

Stephen did not want Loki to leave. 

He called out spontaneously. “Your Highness.”

The soft look in Loki’s eyes instantly hardened. After an awkward pause, Loki finally managed a very guarded “Yes?”

Stephen searched Loki’s face. There was no haughtiness in it, only wariness and suspicion. 

“I don’t address you by your title, but if you wish it, I will.” 

Loki’s response was swift. “I don’t.”

“Neither do I,” Stephen said firmly. 

_We are over this_, he silently said and if Loki was as clairsentient as he claimed…

“As you wish.” The light returned to Loki’s eyes. 

“Stephen.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Well? Are we to stand here and gawk at each other all day?”

“Up to you, Lokes.” Tony fiddled with the controls on the side of his helmet. He slid his visor down, but not before Loki caught his eagle eyes roaming the length of Loki’s body in a suspiciously gleeful manner, “Although I’d suggest changing into something more comfortable, that armour of yours looks pretty heavy for someone with your condition.”

“What?” Loki stared, feeling the blood drain from his face.

It took all he had not to look down at himself for he knew for certain his glamour was rock solid; to all appearances he was as slim and rangy as ever. He would never have stepped out of his bedroom otherwise.

Captain Steve Rogers stepped up to the plate. “It’s alright, Loki. You can sit this one out.”

“Sit out?” Loki echoed, his voice rasping into a hiss. “And why would I do that?”

He swivelled and glowered at his Brother. “Thor?” _If you told them, Thor, I swear I would have your head –_

Not only did he not avoid Loki’s venomous glare, Thor took a step closer toward him – if nothing else convinced Loki of his brother’s innocence, it was that. 

“Is there something wrong, friend Rogers?” Thor asked warily.

“It’s just some reconnaissance work for S.H.I.E.L.D. over at ground zero, and after that, we’re heading downtown for some damage assessment - after the spat of mysterious bombings last night, there’s bound to be some manual handling and heavy lifting involved and I do not think it wise to include you in today’s mission,” Steve Rogers said calmly.

Loki’s mouth opened and closed, and with each attempt to speak, his face grew whiter and whiter with fear, an unparalleled, panicky fear that his secret was _out_, and of course, fury. A pure, blinding fury.

_I threw you down with a single swipe of my hand back in Stuttgart, and you_ “– think me weak, Captain?”

“What? No, Loki.” A deep frown settled over Steve’s handsome features. He looked almost worried as his gaze flicked from one brother to the other.

Loki could not understand the genuine concern in the Captain’s next words.

“Would it not make it worse?”

“Make _what_ worse?” Loki managed to ask without parting his teeth.

“Your back?” Steve sounded puzzled.

“My…back?”

Steve produced a crisp piece of paper from his mission folder. “I’ve got a medical certificate from your doctor right here, stating that you are temporarily unfit for duty, and that you are to be afforded ample rest and scheduled leave for rehabilitative physiotherapy sessions.”

“I can’t believe this,” Loki whispered, aghast. “Strange." It could only be him.

“Aw, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Bambi. We all get indisposed from time to time,” Tony said lightly, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“Yeah, you should have said something earlier, Loki,” Bruce clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Back pain isn’t something to be taken lightly, you know. It is the most common cause of job-related disability, especially in someone your age –”

“Stop talking,” Loki said dimly. “Both of you.”

“It’s not true?” Steve stared, baffled by Loki’s reaction.

Loki was about to erupt with a resounding ‘The Hel it is!’, when Thor suddenly interrupted, “Aye, it is!” A heavy hand clapped Loki on the shoulder, “He does suffer from it from time to time, this bad back of his…”

“I do not!”

“The Healers suspected it was due to a particularly bad fall he took in a horse-riding accident when he was little –”

“What? Thor, I never –”

“_Of course_ you don’t remember, Loki, you were too small to remember!” Thor patted his shoulder awkwardly. “You were what, three hundred at the time?”

Without waiting for an answer, Thor boldly marched past his outraged brother and headed for the door. “Come, friends, let us go, we should not keep the community waiting!”

“Yeah…your chest plate alone is what, fifty, sixty pounds?” Tony scrutinised him up and down, and shook his head in distaste, “Absolute hell on your back, man. Just say the word and I’ll build something lightweight for ya.”

“Aluminium alright?” With a parting cackle, Tony flew out through the balcony at a dizzying speed – because he just had to be ahead of everybody else – leaving Loki to stand alone in the makeshift strategy room…

or so Loki thought.

Bruce cleared his throat.

Loki turned around very slowly.

“So, uh…I’ve got this really great abhyanga oil –”

“Klingon,” Loki said softly.

“It’s an Ayurvedic treatment that involves massaging your body with herb-infused oils, it’s said to be really effective for back pain, and all other aches and pains you may have. Now don’t worry, it’s all organic, directly sourced from Kerala, if you want, I can come by your room sometime and - _Hey!”_

Crestfallen, Bruce watched as the elevator doors closed upon Loki’s dark, dark face.

“I guess that’s that then.”

_______________________________

Loki stepped out of the elevator in a right haze, seeing nothing beyond the looming door to his apartment at the far end of the corridor, and nothing but red.

He was so out of it he would have simply walked past it had he not sensed the blistering heat of the now-familiar portal; it quickly reeled his awareness in, grounding his footsteps to an abrupt halt.

“Oh good you’re here,” Stephen said casually. “Glad I caught you.”

Loki did not turn to face him. “Are you.”

Stephen’s alarm bells began their first tinkling. What he could see of Loki’s side profile was dark, as dark as the aura hanging over their heads.

He needed to know where this was going. “Did something happen?”

“Oh, absolutely nothing.” Loki was _furious_, that much was obvious. “You made damn sure of it.”

Now this was interesting. Stephen had the vaguest idea what might have ticked Loki off, but not the first clue as to how to defuse it.

He was going to have to play this by ear.

Stephen took the first proverbial step back and out of himself. “Excellent. So you know why it needed to happen.”

“No one tells me what to do,” Loki said softly.

“I’d be worried if they did. I’d hate to be making all the decisions for you.” Stephen attempted a joke. “For one thing, I still can’t decide if we’re going to raise our child as an atheist, an agnostic or – well, he can’t very well be an apatheist since he is technically, the half-offspring of a God…”

“You don’t know a thing about me.”

“I didn’t know most of the patients I worked on.” Stephen shrugged. “Most of the time, I didn’t even know their names.”

Again, his critical eye looked Loki’s side profile up and down, completely unperturbed by Loki’s quiet yet blatant display of wrath. “I just look at the way you walk and work backwards.”

Loki lost all control and the red swallowed him whole – in the span of a heartbeat, Loki had Stephen pinned against the wall, the cold metal of his vambraced arm biting into the skin of Stephen’s throat.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn't rip your heart out right here, right now.”

“I’ll give you two. Because you’re hardly the first person to try and I’m still standing.”

Stephen’s heart pounded madly in his chest. “And because contrary to popular belief, you’re not a monster. You never were.”

Loki’s voice was thick. “Always so damn sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Not always." Stephen's voice wavered. The pressure against his throat was not lifting. But it did not increase, either. "But I’m sure of one thing.”

Stephen lifted a hand but it was not to extricate his neck out of Loki’s choke hold –

He touched it to Loki’s cold, stiff cheek, “A year is not damn near enough to know you.”

A surreal sensation overcame his senses and before he could stop himself, he thumbed the dark shadow along Loki’s lower eyelid. “All of you.”

As all strength drained out of Loki, Stephen sagged against the wall from the sudden relief of pressure lifted off his throat.

“Why are you doing this?”

"I don’t…know." Stephen’s eyes dropped to Loki’s lips. At the sight of them quivering, something in him gave, and his hand reluctantly fell away. “I’m –”

_trying_

“- sorry.”

Loki remained silent, neither giving nor resisting. Only waiting.

“Now. How about I take you somewhere?”

“Am I not supposed to be on bed rest, as per your recommendation?” Loki said with a challenging lilt to his voice, sharp and biting. “Locked up in here till you see fit to release me?”

“You are not my prisoner, Loki. You are no one’s prisoner.”

Grand words, from someone who could accost him anytime anywhere by just casting a spell on a strand of his hair…hair he had so stupidly and willingly parted with in a single moment of vulnerability –

“So I have a choice? Not to come with you?”

“Of course. But I would like for you to hear me out before you make a decision.”

“Alright then. Where were you planning to kidnap me to this time?”

“My home,” Stephen said quietly.

Loki stared. “I have no desire to come with you to the Sanctum.”

“Not the Sanctum.” Stephen took a step back and a portal came to life behind him, bright and hot –

And colourful…all gentle, rolling hills and flowers swaying in the breeze, the scent of lavender wafting in its wake.

_“Provence.”_

_________________________________________________

_Provence, Southern France_

“Do you own this place?”

Stephen hesitated. “In a way, yes.”

“And what way is that?”

“In name, mostly.” Stephen walked slowly across the courtyard, feeling the crunch of the familiar gravel under his feet. The figs were ripe and falling off the trees; one squished under the weight of his shoe and Stephen absently scraped his sole against the steps leading up to the front door.

“This is what remains of my late father’s estate.”

Loki touched his fingers to the crumbling cobblestone wall, where vines had crept up to wrap around the house and reached the rafters above their heads.

It must have looked stunning back in the day.

This house, once beautiful and cared for, now lay in ruins, of memories and the passing decay of time.

Loki took his first step over the threshold, careful not to trip over the threadbare mat, a handwoven antique Persian rug, whose once-vibrant scarlet and gold motifs must have matched the sandy limestone walls of the two-storey townhouse.

He looked up at the spiral staircase and thought he saw shadows. He glanced at the linen-covered grand piano and heard music. Melancholic, longing.

“Who lived here?” Loki knew when a house was abandoned and when it was loved. The ghosts that dwelled in either were a different sort.

“All of us did. Once.” Stephen drew the blinds, and a cloud of dust billowed into the air like an eclipse of moths. “But only over the summer.”

He did not offer the tiny but crucial detail that they had stopped coming after Donna’s death; summer retreats were never quite the same when something celebrated by others served only as a grim reminder to the anniversary of the death of a loved one.

Loki stepped into the looming darkness of Stephen’s silhouette. He did not need to see the look on Stephen’s face for the way Stephen palmed the dirty windows as he looked outside into the distance at the lavender fields stretched far and wide before them was telling enough.

“Why did you bring me here, Stephen?” _If it’s causing you so much pain?_

Stephen turned away from the window. As if only realising he was in the presence of company, the shadows disappeared from his eyes and he broke into a smile. “Come.”

He made as if to take Loki’s hand before he realised that Loki still kept both of them in his pockets.

Stephen walked deeper into the house and Loki followed closely behind. He did not want to get lost in this house full of ghosts.

Loki kept his head down as Stephen retraced the steps of his childhood, through the back of the kitchen, down the steps, and finally across the backyard, neat and trimmed despite the house’s inoccupancy.

Just when Loki thought they had reached the edge of the property, they came to a terrace garden, its tiers bursting with wild sunflowers in full bloom that marked the height of summer in Provence.

“Be careful. Some of the tiles have come loose.” Stephen held a hand out to direct Loki where they were to go, gesturing for Loki to go first.

And thirty or so crumbling steps later, at the foot of two massive stone bridge pillars, was a pool.

Unlike the rest of the house, the kidney-shaped swimming pool looked to be in excellent condition, its azure waters clear and inviting.

Loki turned to look at the figure standing a few feet away, his eyes full of uncertainty. “Stephen?”

“I figured you wouldn’t mind swimming here where no one can see you.”

The physiotherapist he spoke to had recommended specific exercises to help with Loki’s back; one way to strengthen Loki’s core muscles and stabilise his pelvis without aggravating the pain was by swimming.

Stephen inhaled deeply. “This is as much privacy as I can get you.”

Loki stared, his eyes unreadable.

“Did you watch the video I sent you? On how to swim while keeping your knees together like the physiotherapist said?”

Loki shook his head.

Stephen nodded. He was not surprised in the least. “Guess I’m going to have to go in with you.”

In the blink of an eye, Stephen had discarded his clothes save for his swimming shorts and was now standing in the waist-high water. “Come on.”

Loki still stood at the foot of the staircase, looking absolutely petrified.

“Loki.” Stephen called gently. _Trust me_.

Loki took a step forward. And another. Soon he was standing at the very edge of the pool.

He stared down at his own reflection.

It had been a while since he last tasted the freedom of swimming. He had only ever done it in the open seas with Thor. Not even the Olympic-sized pool back in Tony Stark’s Tower had looked this inviting.

_Am I really doing this? _

_Getting into the water with this strange man, with a hidden past too painful to share, hands and body scarred beyond human repair? _

_That sounds just like you, _the voice inside him spoke.

_Loki Odinson of once-Asgard._

Slowly Loki began to shed his own clothes. If he did it without magic, there would still be time if he were to change his mind –

_time to run_

“Wait!”

He looked up to see Stephen already out of the water, droplets glistening in his hair like jewels. Suddenly he was in Loki’s face, grabbing at Loki’s chest, half-exposed now that Loki had unbuttoned his shirt. “The patch!”

“What?” Loki’s face burned, his heart thundering like a runaway train. Everything moved as if in slow motion as Stephen plucked the anti-nausea patch off his chest, and swapped it with a new one.

“There. Almost forgot. This one’s waterproof,” Stephen said, patting it a few times to make sure it stuck to Loki’s collarbone.

So much for running now, Loki thought dimly.

Stephen walked around the pool to the far end and dived in, emerging moments later just a few feet away from Loki. “You coming in?”

Stephen swam beautifully.

As much as Loki hated to admit it, he wanted to see it again.

Loki began to shed his clothes faster, until he was wearing nothing but his silk underpants. His hand hovered over his belly, painfully self-conscious that the last time Stephen had seen him in such a state of undress was months ago, on that fateful night when his life, both their lives, changed forever.

Stephen closed his eyes and pretended not to notice, spreading his arms wide apart to float on his back. Only when he sensed the ripple of water around him, indicating that Loki had entered the water, did he reopen his eyes.

“Nice?” he peered down the line of his nose and asked expectantly.

Only Loki’s head was now visible above the water as he paddled slowly toward the deeper end of the pool. He gave the tiniest of nods.

By magic, a pull buoy appeared in the water, bobbing up and down as it floated on the surface within Stephen’s reach.

“Watch me,” Stephen said. He tucked the buoy between his ankles, and locking his knees together, he straightened his legs, keeping it in line with the rest of his body as he began to swim freestyle from one end of the pool to the other.

Stephen doubled back and reached Loki’s side in record time, not out of breath in the slightest as he broke the surface of the water.

“Think you can do it?”

“Of course,” Loki said without hesitation. He plucked the pull buoy out of Stephen’s hand and tucked into a roll underwater, slipping it in between his ankles, just like Stephen had done.

It took a few strokes for him to get the hang of it, but soon he was swimming with no conscious thought as to whether he was going to drop the buoy mid-stroke, and Stephen watched, mesmerised, as Loki glided effortlessly through the water, all sleek and stream-lined.

The ice-cold water felt _unbelievably_ good on Loki's skin.

A dark shadow appeared in his peripheral vision, but it was only Stephen, swimming side by side –

Loki smiled mischievously and increased the length of his strokes, hoping that his slightly taller form would confer him _some_ advantage against this human sorcerer, especially now that his back had finally stopped throbbing in the weightlessness of the water;

But the human wizard was something else, and by the twentieth lap or so, Loki was tiring and still Stephen was matching him stride for stride.

Loki slowed down.

Stephen came to a stop when he reached the edge of the pool, only realising that Loki was no longer swimming alongside him.

“Loki?” He waded over to where Loki had stopped somewhere in the middle of the pool. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” Loki’s eyes were bright, much brighter than they had been. “I’m alright, Stephen.”

Loki reached up to sweep his wet hair out of his eyes. “This feels…nice.”

The awkwardness did not stop there, but Loki’s good manners was the one thing that stayed with him, despite everything that had happened to him. “Thank you. For bringing me here.”

Stephen’s eyes disappeared behind his grin. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do.” Loki looked up at the clear blue sky. He listened to the sounds of cicadas and bees humming and buzzing in symphony. He lifted his hand out of the water and stared at his white, pruny fingers. “I like it very much.”

And suddenly Loki’s stomach gave a rumble.

It was impossible for Stephen to have heard it, but somehow Stephen could sense it all the same; either he was magic like that, or Loki had the word ‘starving’ written right across his forehead.

“Would you like something to eat?”

Loki raised an eyebrow. There was hardly anything in the sparsely furnished, out-of-date kitchen he had walked past to fill Loki with any confidence that anything edible could come out of it. And besides, he only had his eyes on one thing –

“Figs.” His mouth watered at the thought. “I saw some in the driveway when we came in.”

“Yeah, I stepped on some too, I think.” Stephen smiled. “I’ll pick some for you.”

He hefted himself out of the pool and conjured two sets of towels and bath robes, one for himself, and the other for Loki.

“How does roasted figs with toasted almonds and vanilla cream sound?” Stephen asked, drying his hair with the towel. He flung it onto the sun lounge once he was done.

Loki dipped lower into the water until only the top of his head from his eyes upward was visible. It would not do to have Stephen see him salivate (at the thought of caramelised figs or at the sight of Stephen’s well-sculpted body, he could not quite tell) so he nodded into the water.

“I’ll be back.” Stephen tied the robe around himself. “Think you’ll be okay by yourself?”

Loki answered by sinking back into the water and began backstroking idly.

Stephen stared appreciatively at Loki’s slim, muscular form as it cut through the water.

“Figs,” he muttered suddenly. He turned around on his heels and started to walk back up the stairs toward the house, plucking sunflowers that strayed into his path from each tier of the garden terrace, just enough to make a bunch.

“Figs, figs, figs.”

_________________________________________________

Here in the depth of the water, everything was still, and everything was silent.

Loki had been deafened by many things before. Screams, of others. His own too, every once in a while. Of pain, of grief, he had heard them all.

But here…in the depth of the water, everything was mute. Blurry.

Calm. 

What had become of him that he had had to rely on this man, this strange mortal man, to remind him that there was still peace to be found? If he only sank deep enough?

There had been too much chaos in his life. There would be more chaos to come.

He placed his hands over his stomach and imagined the heartbeat he was hearing ringing in his ears was his baby’s, as much as it was his own.

He wished to go deeper.

Loki parted his legs and let the buoy slip free, to make its way to the surface of the water.

Loki wanted to stay underwater forever.

Like the majestically beautiful wobbegong sharks he had once seen in the Pacific Ocean, he longed to burrow himself in the camouflage of the ocean floor and be one with the sea and never come up.

He wished to go deeper.

Perhaps, only then would he know real peace…

Perhaps only then would the nightmares stop.

_________________________________________________

It took Stephen a good portion of ten minutes finding and assembling everything together in the kitchen, and another fifteen minutes to prepare and plate up the dishes.

By the time the sunflowers were cut and sitting in a vase of water, thirty minutes had gone by and Stephen hoped Loki would not be too mad at him for taking too long.

Thor, having accompanied his brother on his food trail all around the city, had regaled him with tales of Loki reducing restaurant staff to tears with his temper for making him wait too long for his food.

_Tall tales, surely? _

But Stephen was not taking any chances.

The tray looked as nice as it was ever going to be; he had dolled his late mother’s prized china and linen up as best as he could for even the most expensive things in the world would yellow in the end with age and disuse.

The caramelised figs looked and smelled delicious – that, and the clotted cream with its black specks of vanilla, looked like something out of a food magazine. The tea was still steaming hot, black and strong just the way Loki liked it.

Dexterity was not his strong suit, and the tray wobbled as Stephen made his way carefully down the steps, “Sorry, it took a while –”

Stephen frowned. He placed the tray on a table next to the sun lounge.

Loki was nowhere to be seen.

Stephen waited for a few more seconds to see if Loki would resurface.

When Loki did not, Stephen approached the water.

When he caught sight of the lone pull buoy bobbing up and down in the water, his heart began to pound, and his hands began to numb.

_No._

Stephen jogged around the circumference of the pool, praying for a glimpse –

How long had Stephen left Loki alone in the water?

Thirty minutes. Thirty long minutes.

_No_.

A dark shadow lay unmoving at the bottom of the pool.

And all of a sudden, all Stephen could see was white.

He dived into the pool, saw and felt the loud splash he made but did not hear it –

He snaked his arms around Loki’s armpits and _hauled_ him up, kicking as hard as he could to bring Loki to the surface.

And suddenly Loki came to life, struggling in his arms, pulling them both down and deeper into the water with the combined weight of their flailing bodies.

But in Stephen’s adrenaline-driven panic, he was stronger. He wrapped his arm around Loki’s chest and single-handedly propelled him out of the water and onto the ledge with one final heave.

Stephen hefted himself out of the water, dripping wet, his robes hanging heavily off his drenched form.

“Are you insane?” Stephen shouted, his heart thundering like mortal shells. He walked his knees across the pavement to where Loki was crouched, his arms wrapped around his belly protectively. “What the hell did you think you were doing?”

“What the fuck were _you_ doing?” Loki screamed. He was still breathing very heavily.

Stephen reached out a hand but Loki recoiled violently.

“Don’t touch me!” Loki snarled.

“I thought – ” Stephen sank backward onto his haunches, his face haunted. “I thought you were –”

“You’re _insane_.” Loki climbed to his feet with shaky legs. There were tears in his eyes.

Loki lurched for the sun lounge where the robes and towels were. He hurriedly wrapped himself up, jerkily tying the robe around his waist with visibly trembling hands.

“Loki, wait –”

Stephen scrambled to his feet; Loki threw one last furious look over his shoulder –

“Loki, don't!”

– and teleported out of sight in a geyser of gold and green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because writing is my haven, and not a day goes by that I do not marvel at the beauty that is Stephen & Loki together.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sanctum Sanctorum_

“Your Brother is a piece of _work_.”

Stephen stormed off in the direction of the sitting room where he had been pacing for the past hour, knowing Thor would show up sooner or later to tear him a new one for upsetting his precious little brother.

Thor followed closely behind. He watched in quiet consternation as Stephen sank into his fauteuil, his face as dark as shadows.

Either the meaning of the idiom eluded him, or his Allspeak was simply not sensitive enough to pick up on the subtleties of human sarcasm, for Thor sounded genuinely perplexed. “Please. Elaborate.”

“So he appeared to you?”

“Soaking wet like a dishrag, yes. And sicker than a dog.”

Stephen would not allow himself to feel anything akin to sympathy despite the sudden sickly churning of his own stomach.

“He endangered himself, without any regard whatsoever for the child he is carrying. I don’t know if he did it knowingly, which may or may not be in keeping with what is known of his personality type –” Stephen gripped the armrest tightly as he fought to keep his voice level. “But it’s _worse_ if he did it unknowingly, simply for the risk that he might do it again, if you don’t get him the help he needs.”

He furiously scrubbed at a callus on his hands, his face troubled. “And I don’t think I am the right person to give it to him.”

“Do what again?” Thor asked calmly.

Stephen stopped picking at his hands. “He didn’t tell you?”

“Loki harbours more secrets than the rest of us, Strange. I think he takes a secret pleasure in it.” Thor waved a placating hand. “You need not distress yourself overmuch with his idiosyncrasies.”

“Idiosyn – what I did _not_ need was him to pretend he was drowning like I was some kind of greenhorn lifeguard children would play pranks on!” Stephen seethed. “Just because I might have left him alone for too long to get him something to _eat_.”

Thor was very quiet for a long time.

“You think he did it for the attention?”

“I don’t know why he did it, but he certainly should have known better!” Stephen threw himself back against the chair. He stared sullenly at the ground beneath his feet. “He needs a psychiatrist, more than he needs a physiotherapist, that’s for damn sure.”

“Strange, I am going to tell you something.”

“If it’s some sort of lame excuse to explain away Loki’s behaviour and acquit him, I’d rather you save it.”

“No excuse. Just a story.” Thor’s voice was quiet.

Stephen waited. He had spoken his piece after all.

When Thor began to speak, the audible detachment was alarming, as was his thousand-mile gaze as he stared off into the distance.

“Asgard was a land of magic, as you know, even if the practice of sorcery was frowned upon. Were my Father still alive, he would deny it to the very last breath, but sorcery was necessary. To win wars, to ensure peace, for personal gain or for the good of the realm, magic was our way of life, whether we liked it or not.”

“After The Allfather and The Allmother, Loki showed the most promise in magic, even at a very young age. And as a member of the Royal Family, Loki practiced magic openly without a care for idle gossip and backtalk. Or so I thought,” Thor muttered, playing at an invisible blemish on the armrest of his chair. “As for me? I could hardly conjure a blade of grass, let alone an actual blade if my life depended on it.”

“But as is the law of nature, there is good and there is evil in everybody and in everything.”

“Magic is light, and magic is dark. Magic is life, and magic is death.” Thor’s eyes darkened. “Enemies sought to destroy Asgard through whatever means necessary, and one of them was through Loki.”

For a moment, Thor looked uncertain; to share such stories would mean betraying his Brother, would it not? But if the tale was known the realm over, was it still betrayal? Especially now that the realm no longer existed?

“What happened, Thor?”

“Practitioners of the dark arts knew that their magical prowess was only as good as the value of their offerings at the sacrificial altar, and heinous crimes such as matricide, patricide, fratricide or even infanticide were not unheard of. But the strength of the magic can be increased exponentially if the sacrifice itself was a being of magic.”

“Let me guess. Loki got kidnapped?”

“Worse. He got pregnant.”

Stephen looked up sharply.

“It was not borne out of promiscuity or an act of love or in your case, the product of a one-night pleasure. It was forced upon him by the vilest, most atrocious means of deception none of us saw coming.”

Thor’s booming voice had dwindled down to a mumble.

“Loki knew once news broke out of his pregnancy that he would be the target of the dark sorcerers between the warring realms so he took it upon himself to go into hiding.”

“Without telling anyone?” Stephen’s tone sharpened. “Not even Asgard?” _Not even you?_

“The one who deceived him was Asgardian,” Thor said quietly. “A Lady of the Court. Called herself our friend.”

“We looked for him everywhere. He turned himself into a falcon and by the time Mother’s locating spell found his nest on a cliff on the highest mountain in Asgard, he had shifted himself into a salmon and hid in the waterfall of Franangrsfors.”

“And you…caught him.”

“Don’t believe everything you read in the legends, Strange.” Thor snorted derisively. “Your scholars spent centuries trying to convince the masses that Loki’s serpent son slaughtered me at Ragnarok and that Loki met his death slayed in battle by our late friend Heimdall and we all know that never happened.”

“But you did, didn’t you?” Stephen asked with a hint of desperation he could not bring himself to acknowledge.

The grief in Thor’s eyes mirrored the heavy regret weighing down his words. “They got to him first.”

Stephen’s throat dried.

“He was not looking to harm your baby, Strange. He was protecting it.”

“Strange way of doing it,” Stephen finally mumbled.

“Well, like you said, he can be not all that right in the head sometimes.” Despite his jestful words, Thor’s smile looked very sad. “But then again, who is?”

A heavy stillness settled over the air, dark and oppressive.

“I lost someone,” Stephen said abruptly. “Someone very dear to me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “When I saw him there, at the bottom of the damn pool…I really thought I had lost him. Him and our baby.”

When Stephen reopened his eyes, they were moist with grief. “And that it would have all been my fault.”

_My fault all over again. _

“I understand why you did what you did, Strange.” The absence in Thor’s eyes had been replaced by a deep-seated sympathy. “Our past experiences conditioned us to react in a certain way that is largely ineludible, and out of our control.”

“Now Loki may be my Brother but he…is a mystery to me most of the time. The things he does, the things he says, only Loki is privy to the reasoning behind them.” Thor tried to hide his helplessness from showing too much. “But he is not invincible against emotions. He hides, he runs...”

He hesitated. “What I am trying to say is…he’s just as conditioned as the rest of us.”

Stephen held Thor’s gaze and wondered if the unhappiness he was seeing was a reflection of his own.

“My Brother has lived many lifetimes, Master Strange. It is a miracle he has survived them all. No one escapes without acquiring scars along the way.” Thor sighed heavily. “One can only hope to be so lucky.”

“Loki’s scars run deep, Stephen,” Thor pleaded. “If you’re in this for the long haul, like you said you were, you should know that.”

Stephen leaned forward in his seat and buried his face in his hands.

When he finally roused himself from the state of emotional dissonance, the shadows had somehow lifted and The Sanctum seemed lighter and brighter. Or perhaps it had something to do with the golden figure still sitting in front him, ever patient and full of hope.

“Thank you, Thor. For letting me know.”

______________________________________

“Loki, get up.”

Thor’s manhandling had toned down in brutishness over the years, but Loki wouldn’t go so far as to call him gentle. He wrenched his shoulder away from Thor’s jostling and buried his face deeper into his pillow.

As surrender was apparently still not in Thor’s nature, he grabbed Loki’s shoulder again. “It’s late. You need to eat something. You haven’t eaten all day.”

Loki’s stomach had finally settled, but the thought of eating anything filled his mouth with ash.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Then don’t eat for you. Eat for the baby.”

Loki could not very well argue with that. If he did not know any better, he’d say Thor was getting very adept in the art of persuasion.

Or maybe Loki was getting soft.

Thor brought the bed tray table closer.

Loki’s reaction to its content was immediate and violent; the thud his head made against the wall as Loki recoiled made the bed shake, and Thor looked up sharply.

He did not say a word, only handing Loki a small plate which Loki accepted with a hand that trembled ever so slightly.

Loki stared at the _fastelavnsbolle_ for a long, long time.

He finally lifted the top of the cardamom-spiced wheat bun and peered inside. The slices of fresh figs glistened against the white of the whipped cream and the sanguine redness of homemade fig jam.

Loki replaced the cut-off top carefully atop the generous heap of jam and dusted the powdered sugar off the tips of his fingers.

Just as Thor thought Loki was never going to eat, Loki brought the sweet roll to his lips and took the first, small bite.

“So?” Thor asked quietly. “Does it taste just like how you remembered?”

The tears that slid silently down Loki’s face as he ate the cream roll crumb by crumb were all the evidence Thor needed.

Loki only looked up once he regained enough composure to stop crying into his scones. “Mother liked the bun a little less sweet.” He licked his lips. “And the jam a little more tart.”

Thor laughed gently. “I may have gotten the conversion wrong when I told Stephen just how much sugar to use.”

Loki stared at Thor as though he had grown two heads. And here he thought Thor had flown to New Asgard and gotten their cooks to bake the delicacies. “You made these?”

“Well…Strange did. I observed. And tasted. And critiqued.”

“Oh dear. I can’t imagine the state you must have left the kitchen in.”

Loki’s words sounded casual and unconcerned, but Thor had lived long enough to read the nuances behind them.

“He’s trying, Loki.”

“I know.”

“He’s trying his best.”

“I _know_, Thor.”

A tear began to slide down his cheek once more against his volition.

At the back of his mind, Loki knew he was missing something, that he probably needed to establish some sort of context for Thor to even begin to understand…but he realised it mattered not in the least what Thor did or did not understand, only that he listened.

“But for a second, I was back _there_. I know he didn’t mean to – ” Loki’s voice was thick with centuries-old tears, “But I remember how the net burned the scales right off my body, I remember their hands grabbing me and how I struggled and I screamed but they wouldn’t let me go.”

“Loki, enough.”

“I struggled like I had never struggled in my life, till one of them lost patience and gutted me,” Loki struggled to pace his breathing but the short, sharp gasps kept coming, “Gutted me right then and there in the water like an _animal_.”

“Loki, I was there. I saw what they did to you.” Thor seized the side of his face, voice raw with grief.

“And I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. We could have – ” Thor’s jaw clenched. “We could have saved her.”

“You remember? You remember my –”

_daughter_

Loki’s throat constricted around the word.

“I remember everything. I remember killing each and every one of them with my bare hands while Father stood back and watched. I remember scooping you out of the water myself and Mother had her hands so deep inside of you there was no telling where she ended and you began for all the blood – I remember begging you to hold on as Mother exhausted every drop of her magic to save you and save your silent daughter both but still it was not enough.”

“Father did not even let me see her.”

“Loki, you were at death’s door for days. We knew not how long we could have waited to hold her funeral, only that it must not be too long,” Thor said carefully. “If she had fallen into the wrong hands…”

Thor’s hand finally dropped away and Loki’s black hair fell over his face but it did nothing to hide the agony in Loki’s eyes.

“Loki.”

Loki looked up slowly so as not to shed the last of the tears clinging to his lashes.

“Do you want away from here?”

“It matters not where I take my body, Thor. My mind follows still.”

“I wish I could take your pain away, Loki.”

“Why? It’s mine. The Norns must have me seen me fit to suffer so, as they must have seen you fit to suffer yours.”

“You need not worry for me, Loki. I am hale.” Thor shook his head. “It is you I fear for.”

“I suppose if I am to be burdened with bearing someone’s love, I’d rather it be yours.”

“Do you speak truly, Brother?”

Loki shrugged. “You’re familiar.”

Loki’s gaze lingered in the general area of Thor’s broad shoulders. “And despite all I’ve done, you’re still here.”

“I’ve told you before, Loki. I will never leave you.”

“I don’t know if I can promise you the same.”

Thor was quiet. “My love for you is unconditional. You need not reciprocate. You need only be yourself.”

Loki’s face teetered dangerously on the verge of crumbling but he held fast.

“What is it you fear, Loki?” Thor asked gently.

“I fear I am not capable of loving.” _Anything, anyone,_ “Anymore.”

“That is not true.” Thor shook his head. “What you did in France…you did out of love for your unborn child.”

Loki’s voice trailed to a whisper. “Stephen does not see it that way.”

“Stephen misunderstood you. Just as you misunderstood him.”

“To call it a misunderstanding would require some sort of rectification of the situation by way of apology and explanation and storytelling and that is one can of worms I’d rather not open, thank you very much.”

“There is no can-opening necessary, Brother.” Thor’s hand was warm as it patted the back of Loki’s own. “I’ve closed it for you.”

“What do you mean?” Loki’s heart began to pound. “Thor, what did you tell him?”

“Just enough to let him know that nothing is ever as it seems when it comes to you.”

Loki was still glowering.

Thor rolled his eyes. “Your secrets are safe with me, Loki. I knew better than to run my mouth. Your magic’s all over the place and I can’t very well risk it lest I incur your wrath and get turned into some kind of three-legged amphibian again.”

“W-Well,” Loki stammered. “What did he say?”

Thor released Loki’s hand to grasp his shoulder. “I think this is where I step back, Loki.”

Loki groaned softly and palmed his face. “I shouldn’t have eaten the scones…”

“Why? What’s the matter? Did they make you ill?”

“They were a peace offering, weren’t they?” Loki moaned into his hands. “Court etiquette dictates that I must now reciprocate in kind.”

Thor snorted. “What sort of idiot do you think I am? You knew and you ate them anyway.”

He stood to clear the dishes away, brushing the crumbs off Loki’s bed.

“Now, speaking of kitchens...yes, I think it’s safe to say that no one will be cooking anything anytime soon over at The Sanctum so…” Thor glanced at the clock. “You might catch him before the dinner rush starts.”

“You speak as though you know him so well,” Loki commented flippantly. “Have you become good friends now?”

“I know _you_. And I know you hate crowds. So does he.” Thor called upon Stormbreaker, and it slammed into his awaiting palm from out of nowhere.

“Shall I take you?”

_________________________________________________

“Welcome to Denny’s, where your sandwich dreams come to life!”

Stephen mustered a smile. It was the least he could do in the face of such enthusiasm. Besides, it was his usual deli guy who always piled on the good stuff and never stinged on the sauces.

“What can I get you today? The usual?”

“Yeah. Ham and cheese on rye, please.” His head shot up. “No wait. On second thought, hold the cheese.” Stephen remembered the huge batch of leftover whipped cream in the kitchen. And on the floor. And the walls.

It was destined to be a recipe for disaster, the Sorcerer Supreme and the God of Thunder under one roof, no matter how well-intentioned they both might have been.

“And for the second?”

“Second what?”

“The second sandwich?” The delicatessen worker pointed at the poster on the wall. “Buy one get one free?”

“Oh. Right.” Stephen muttered. “I forgot about that.”

“Well?” The deli guy asked impatiently.

“Never mind. I’ll have just the one.”

“You sure? Your friend looks like he could use a sandwich.”

Stephen laughed. “Wong? I highly doubt it. Besides he’s away at the moment and I don’t think whatever I get him will keep.”

“I think he meant me.” A quiet voice spoke from behind him.

Stephen turned around very slowly.

“Hello, Stephen.”

“Well?” Stephen finally spoke.

“I’m sorry?”

Stephen pursed his lips. “Thank you, Loki, but I was asking what sort of sandwich you would like.”

“Yeah, I, ah…I got that.” Loki looked flustered and mighty unsure of himself, as well as his surroundings.

He finally pointed at a picture on the menu board. “What is this food item portrayed here on your wall?”

“That’s…a Reuben.” The deli guy looked Loki up and down. “You new around here?”

Loki stared back. “Are you going to rescind the offer of a complimentary sandwich if I were?”

“Huh?”

“He’ll have a Reuben,” Stephen said hurriedly, pinching the sleeve of Loki’s suit jacket and pulling him backward; the more out of sight Loki was, the better. “But go easy on the corned beef.”

“I don’t know man your friend was pretty specific about what he wanted. I don’t want any bad reviews on Yelp or something if it doesn’t look like the picture.”

“Just – halve the filling you’d normally put, don’t pile it on like you always do mine.” Stephen smiled through gritted teeth. “He’s a light eater.”

“I can tell,” the guy said coolly. “Yeah, whatever. But next time bring your other friend. He’s much cooler,” he muttered under his breath.

“Stephen,” Loki hissed in his ear. “I do not like this establishment.”

“I don’t think it likes you either,” Stephen murmured in mild amusement.

Loki looked very much like he wished to retaliate, but something took hold of his control centres and made him walk out without a fight instead.

Stephen heaved a small sigh of relief, or exasperation; it could also be both, a sentiment shared by the deli worker, judging by the speed with which he slapped their sandwiches together.

Stephen walked out warily, brown bag in hand, not knowing if Loki was still hanging around or if he had stalked off in a huff.

He found Loki standing on the sidewalk, the stream of pedestrians unconsciously parting to give this strange, tall man all dressed in black a wide berth.

Loki’s eyes were wells of sorrow, and Stephen lost all anger.

As he approached Loki slowly, he could feel the pent-up hurt drain out of him like water

“Take a walk with me.” Stephen suddenly remembered how one should not presume to tell Loki what to do, lest he do the complete opposite – “Please?”

Loki nodded.

They walked together in silence for what felt like long, torturous minutes.

“Did you get home alright?” Stephen needed to say something or the silence would drive him mad.

“You know I did.”

“Yeah, but did you – is the sickness gone?”

“I didn’t vomit all over Stark’s furniture if that’s what you’re asking.”

Stephen smiled. “No, you only ever ruin mine.”

Loki shrugged. “It’s not Stark’s child I am carrying, is it.”

Stephen’s footsteps slowed to a stop. “Let’s not go home just yet.”

Loki’s forehead furrowed.

“I know a park close by. We can eat there. And – talk, if you like.”

Stephen saw Loki’s chest rise and fall from a heavy sigh, but he did not hear it, only the tiredness in Loki’s voice. “I suppose we must.”

They sat on a bench, choosing one that was furthest from the crowd and the most dimly-lit. If anyone should accost them at knifepoint, it would probably be the last thing he would ever do.

“This looks nothing like the picture,” Loki muttered. He sniffed delicately at the sandwich. “Well. At least he didn’t spit in it.”

Stephen pursed his lips and tried not to laugh. “Too much salt in your diet is not good when you’re pregnant, Loki. Animal studies have shown that it has negative effects on the baby’s developing kidneys.”

Loki tasted a strand of cured brisket and made a face.

“You needn’t have worried.” Loki casually scraped the meat and cheese off and began eating just the bread and sauerkraut.

Stephen shook his head and rescued the precious cuts of meat before they landed on the ground, piling them on his own sandwich.

They ate in complete silence until every last bit of food was gone.

This time, Loki was the first to break the silence.

“I…have no excuse for what I did, Stephen,” Loki spoke, his voice halting. “You invited me to your home and I treated you badly.”

“You did.”

Loki hung his head low. “I know.”

“No, I mean – ” Stephen’s hand twitched in his lap as he fought the urge to grab one of Loki’s bare hands. “You…had an excuse.”

Stephen made do with staring. Loki’s hands looked white and cold. “I just didn’t think to ask.”

“Well, neither did I.”

“You did.” He remembered Loki’s carefully worded questions back in France. “I just did not answer.”

Stephen tore his gaze away, knowing if he didn’t, he would have gone for it and there was no telling how Loki would react should Stephen suddenly touch him without his express permission.

But Loki surprised him by doing one better and reading Stephen’s mind entirely.

Loki’s fingers felt as cold as they looked, and Stephen found himself squeezing the hell out of them, if only to let his human body heat warm them up by the law of thermodynamics, if not magic.

“I will try harder, Stephen.”

Yeah. It was magic alright.

Stephen lifted Loki’s fingers to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss to the ice-cold knuckles. “Thank you.”

Loki stared, transfixed by the sight of their clasped hands, before he suddenly stiffened. “Shall we go?”

“Is something wrong?”

“I think that man over there is thinking of robbing us and I’d rather not ruin the night by committing a murder, even if it is in self-defense.”

“Good idea.” Stephen hurriedly pulled Loki to his feet.

They walked hand-in-hand for the last few blocks or so, each lost in thought, before a one-wheeling biker with a death wish careened down the pavement and forced them to release their precarious hold on each other as they stepped sideways to give way.

Suddenly Stephen wished he had not let his feet lead the way by instinct. They would not have found themselves standing in front of 177A Bleecker Street so soon had he taken a longer route. “Well, here we are.”

Loki waited for Stephen to open a portal for him back to the Avengers Tower but Stephen did no such thing. Instead, Stephen opened the double doors and held them ajar expectantly.

“I mustn’t presume, Doctor –”

“Presume what, that The Sanctum has no spare bed or two?” Stephen snorted. “She’s sentient. On a good day, she can accommodate a truckload of people. On bad days, I sleep on the couch.”

Loki was still perched on the porch, feet glued to the ground, looking every inch the reindeer caught in headlights he must have once been in a past life.

Loki bit the inside of his lower lip. “Thor will be wondering where I’ve gone.”

Stephen wiggled his phone in the air. “Already taken care of. Sent him a text.”

Loki reared his head and looked like he would fly into a fit of temper or melt into a boneless pile on the ground any second.

But in the end, exhaustion from the day’s events won out and he shook his head in resignation. “Always so damn sure of yourself, aren’t you.”

Stephen said nothing. He only stood at the threshold, one foot already inside the door. 

And for one terrifying second, Loki imagined Stephen disappearing completely, swallowed whole by The Sanctum, and just the thought of Stephen closing the door on him was suddenly too much to bear.

“Do you have any of your mother’s figs left?” he heard himself say.

“Plenty enough if you care for dessert. There’s cream on the ceiling. Your Brother’s one hell of a whisker.”

That finally brought a laughter out of Loki.

At the sound of Loki’s laughter, Stephen’s heart fluttered with little butterflies.

“I make a mean sticky cinnamon fig and yoghurt breakfast bowl too,” he said quietly.

Loki’s smile wavered. “Why are you doing this?”

The butterflies took flight when his heart began to pick up pace as Stephen tried very hard to think of just the thing to say. Twice now Loki had asked the same question; Stephen had better get it right this time.

“I just thought it’d be easier to clean up the kitchen by magic and I figured you can help me.”

Loki’s eyes softened. Maybe the butterflies were contagious and Loki was feeling them too.

“I can do that,” he finally said, and took a step inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, kudos are coveted, comments loved. Thanks for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

“It is basic antenatal care, Loki.”

“I might have a go at whatever you’re suggesting, Strange.” Loki lifted a conditional finger, “If you could satisfactorily answer a few questions for me.”

“Shoot.” Stephen crossed his arms and lifted a determined chin. There were no questions in the world he could not answer after all. The degree of satisfaction one might gain from his answers was a different matter entirely.

“Now. These blood investigations, screening tests, like you say to look for syndromes and navel tube defects and whatnot – ”

“_Neural_ tube,” Stephen murmured.

Loki maintained a neutral look on his face. “Pardon my Allspeak, it is partial to translating only interesting and useful things. Now speaking of useful…”

Loki straightened in his armchair and clasped his hands neatly in his lap. “Tell me, Doctor. What is the use of performing these tests that have been specifically designed to test for human genetic conditions and human diseases, on me?”

Stephen was quiet.

“I am not mocking you, Stephen.”

“I know, Loki. These are valid questions. Dare I say, the same ones that I have asked myself.”

“And?” Loki tilted his head in an inquiring manner. “You humans have only just mapped out your genome, what ten, fifteen years ago? How long will it take you to map out mine?”

“In an ideal universe, I would have already known everything about you even before I met you.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Stephen. You know what happens in movies to people who know too much.” Loki’s light-hearted warning was anything but, if the aversion of his gaze was any indication. He reached for the side table at his elbow. “And what is with all these questionnaires?”

“ ‘Have you ever, over the past 2 weeks, felt down, depressed or hopeless?’ ” Loki read aloud one of the items on the checklist. He skipped most of the following questions to zoom on the very last one. It was written in bold, after all. “ ‘Have you ever thought about harming yourself?’ ”

Loki slammed the clipboard down on Stephen’s antique writing table none too gently. “What.”

“It’s just a standard set of questions, Loki,” Stephen said, as calm as anything. “To assess the risk of your developing any…affective problems further down the line.”

“Affective problems?” Loki echoed.

He rose and walked slowly round the table until he reached Stephen’s side. He rocked back on a heel and leaned against the table, his crossed legs mere inches away from touching Stephen in the knee.

“Is that a roundabout way of saying that you fear I might pass my…tendency to succumb to fits of madness onto your precious child?”

“No, Loki –”

When Loki resorted to doing something by hand he could have easily done by magic, it was a sure sign that Stephen was treading on dangerous waters.

Loki unattached the bundle of questionnaires, ripped it in half down the middle slowly and cleanly, and clipped the torn pages back onto the clipboard.

He handed the clipboard back to Stephen with a sweet, sweet smile. “There. I’ve answered them for you.”

Entirely undaunted and unperturbed, Stephen reached up to lay a very careful hand on Loki’s hip. “I only want to make sure you’re alright.”

“The baby’s fine, Stephen. He doesn’t need all these tests,” Loki stressed, clearly frustrated. He pulled away and stalked over to the windows. “I am all the indicator you need. If there’s something wrong with him, I would know.”

Stephen slowly pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m not talking about the baby, I’m talking about you.”

“What about me?” Loki crossed his arms.

“You’re long overdue for a check-up, Loki.”

“I don’t need one. It’s nothing I haven’t gone through before.”

“Yes, and the last time you were pregnant, you were five hundred years younger, if Thor would have me believe.” Stephen tried to hide a smile. “We have a term for that. ‘Advanced maternal age’.”

Loki gritted his teeth. “I fail to see what could be so funny,” he said tightly. “And you haven’t answered any of my questions. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re deflecting again, Doctor.”

Stephen sighed. “Honestly, I don’t see how it can do anybody any harm. It’s just some very basic tests. Your blood count, iron levels, antibody levels – yes, the parameters are slightly different, but they’re not that far off from normal human physiology that we can’t interpret or at least make some sense out of them.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Well…we made a baby, Loki. It would not have been possible if we’re not even remotely compatible in some way.”

“But it would not have been possible. If it hadn’t been for your spell, the baby would not have survived.”

“But he did. That meant something.”

Loki’s expression spiralled into something resembling one of stunned disbelief.

Stephen sighed again. “I am not going to stare the gift horse in the mouth, Loki.”

He braved a few steps closer toward the figure standing stock-still by the window, stopping short before their silhouettes could touch one another. “I will take care of you. Both of you. To the best of my abilities.”

For a second there, it looked as though Loki was going to yield, but something that looked too much like a sudden epiphany passed over his face.

“Not just yours, is it?” Loki’s eyes narrowed. “Who have you been talking to? Ross? That one-eyed, pompous, self-righteous prick?”

“What?” Stephen stared blankly. “Who?”

“The tests. The parameters you mentioned. How they’re not all that dissimilar to yours,” Loki pressed further, “How did you come across that piece of classified knowledge? The one time they could have had access to any of my _parameters_ was during the – ” _invasion_, he nearly said.

“It was Banner.”

“You went to _Bruce?_”

“No, he came to me, Loki. You might be surprised but other than your Brother, there are other people who were looking out for you over at the Tower.”

“Why?”

“Why was he looking out for you?” Stephen shrugged. “It’s just in his nature, I guess. Sagittarians are big-hearted and caring people by nature.”

“Why did he come to you?” Loki enunciated his words slowly in the vain attempt to pace the racing of his heart.

“Don’t worry, your big secret’s safe,” Stephen said with a poorly-concealed hint of irritation.

“You mean _our_ big secret.”

“_I_ had wanted to tell him, back when you were so sick you could barely get out of bed he thought you were dying of some prolonged illness. He sought my advice seeing I was a doctor, but he shouldn’t have sold himself short. From the clinical data he collected on you back in 2012, he could have made your life, and mine, less of a misery.”

“_Excuse_ me?” Loki hissed.

“Did you know your Brother once threatened to destroy every relic in this place if I didn’t come to you at his every beck and call?”

“Forgive me for being such a burden,” Loki said bitterly. “If you could kindly portal me somewhere, I will gladly get out of your coiffed hair right now.”

“Honestly, Loki, do stop acting like a child.”

“Oh how marvelous. Now I’m a child. We’re resorting to name-calling now. What will be next? Body-shaming?”

“Loki…” Stephen heaved a sigh of frustration. He closed the distance to where Loki was standing by the window, looking all of ten seconds away from jumping.

He lightly touched Loki’s wrist. “That’s not what I meant. It came out wrong.”

“I did not come here to be ridiculed.”

“Did you not listen to a single word I said?” Stephen asked, exasperated. “I was in misery because I wanted to take care of you. Properly. But I couldn’t.”

Loki tore his eyes away, but Stephen did the most unexpected by forcing them to meet his gaze by cupping the back of his neck.

“And there’s nothing shameful or ugly about you.”

Loki felt a gentle thumb play with the dimple above his ear, but before he could pull his face away from the intrusive touch, he felt the gentle weight of Stephen’s other hand pressed into the side of his belly and Loki froze.

“Strange,” he murmured. “What are you doing?”

For one heart-stopping moment, Loki thought Stephen was about to kiss him but instead of his lips, Stephen’s mouth brushed against his ear.

“Don’t imagine things that are not there,” he heard Stephen whisper.

When the panic passed and Loki felt brave enough to move again, he shifted his body so Stephen’s hand would not be visible to curious passers-by. Never mind the fact that they were on the third floor where the only passers-by were invariably birds...

But then again, who knew. The ravens could still be alive despite everything.

“Are you averse to my touching you like this?”

Loki shook his head slowly. “He’s as much yours as he is mine.” A faint blush started to colour his otherwise bone-white cheeks. “Just…not in public.”

Stephen lifted an eyebrow.

Loki rolled his eyes. “You touching another man’s belly? Don’t you think people will look at you and think you’re a bit odd?”

“How very thoughtful of you, Loki, but I honestly don’t care.” Stephen cocked his head. “Besides, you wear a glamour all the time whenever you’re outside.”

“Yeah, that makes you even more odd. Like you’re feeling me for a tumour or something.”

Stephen laughed.

“So how about the tests then?”

“I…think not,” Loki said coolly. “I’m terribly sorry but no one’s coming anywhere near me with a needle.”

“What are you afraid of?” Stephen asked, baffled.

“You won’t understand.”

“Then help me understand.”

Loki only shook his head and turned his head to look outside the window.

“It’s alright to be afraid,” Loki heard Stephen say, but it sounded far away. He knew Stephen was still caressing his belly but he was hardly feeling it.

‘_I am not afraid_,’ Loki wanted to say, but the words did not seem forthcoming.

“I am too. More than you know.”

That jolted Loki back into the present and he stared at Stephen incredulously.

_No, you’re not. You’re not afraid of anything. Not Dormammu, not Thor. _

_Not even _

_(Thanos)_

“I am not afraid.” Loki abruptly pried Stephen’s hand off his belly and twisted around, pressing himself to the window. Its glass panes were perishingly cold in comparison to the heat of Stephen’s body but he could not, for the life of him, turn himself around no matter how warm the human sorcerer was.

Loki could even feel the heat of Stephen’s hand as it hovered over his shoulder, bold only moments ago, now very much afraid to touch.

“Take me home,” he heard himself say.

The warmth of Stephen’s breath ceased to bristle the fine hairs on Loki’s neck.

“Take me home, Stephen.”

“As you wish.” And the heat, the hand, the breath, all of Stephen disappeared.

For someone who knew the cold as well as Loki, the absence of warmth was colder than anything he had ever felt before, and he felt something inside him wither and die.

_______________________________________________

Loki should have known there was to be no quiet to be found upon his return. No sooner had he lain down on his bed, fully intent to stare at the ceiling for hours on end, than he heard a soft but insistent knocking on his door.

“Back so soon?”

“Don’t be clever, Thor.”

Loki’s words lacked their usual bite, and Thor took in his brother’s solemn countenance with quiet concern.

“Is everything alright?” He asked lightly.

Loki stared at him with owlish eyes, his “Yes,” immediate and monotonous.

He gave his bed a last longing look, before making his way to the settee instead.

Thor filled a glass of water from the sink and plopped it down on the coffee table in front of Loki.

“Brother, what is the matter? You look troubled.”

“I’m not troubled,” Loki mumbled. After a beat, “Your good friend is.”

“What about?” Thor asked seriously.

Loki lifted his eyebrows. “I didn’t realise you were that close.”

“Don’t be clever, Loki.”

At Loki’s mildly disgusted look, Thor added. “There is no brushing him off as someone we only know in passing now, is there? Not anymore.”

Somehow that made Loki look even more unhappy.

“Loki…” Thor used his most cajoling, big-brother voice to drawl out his brother’s name. “You know you can tell me anything.”

“Since we last visited Asgard, you have been in frequent contact with the Valkyrie, yes?” Loki finally asked hesitantly.

“Yes.” Thor waited patiently for Loki’s real question.

“Are we…anywhere close to rebuilding the Soul Forge?”

“You know the answer to that, Brother. The trace element we need to generate the forces the Soul Forge utilised to analyse our bodies down to the subatomic particles back in old Asgard only exists on Nidavellir. Our medical engineers are still looking for alternatives, of course.”

Loki made as if to nod his head in understanding, but it never lifted again; he only stared into his glass of water as though not only the answer to the breakthrough they needed was in there, but the answer to every question in the universe.

To connect the dots, Thor needed not follow Loki’s thinking (an impossible feat, even after centuries); he needed only to exercise some mental reverse-engineering and make an educated guess.

“Is Stephen worried something might be wrong with…the pregnancy?”

The stunt Loki had pulled at the pool was hardly a stunt by their standards…but a human doctor may very well feel differently.

“He’s trying to get me to do some…tests.”

“Tests? What kind of tests?” Thor asked warily.

Loki shrugged. “Just routine ones. He said all pregnant women on earth have them.”

“He must mean those machines that can look into people’s bodies and project the images onto a screen and let you count the baby’s toes and things,” Thor deduced.

“Toes and _things?” _Loki stared. “Do you even listen to yourself?”

“Yes, see there’s this show I happened to watch once on the television, One Born Every Minute I think it’s called, a real tear-jerker, you should watch it.”

Loki closed his eyes and took the deepest breath he could without popping a lung.

“No,” he growled.

“ ‘No, you will not watch it ever', or ‘No, you won’t come within a foot of manmade machines since you have an aversion to almost all of them?’ ”

“Both,” Loki growled again.

“Don’t you want to make sure that you’re in good health? The baby too, just to see if he’s alright?”

“What if – what if he’s not alright?” Loki’s eyes flew open, dark and empty. “What if it’s not even a he?”

“So it’s a her. So what? Odin’s eldest was a female,” Thor said lightly. “A stark-raving lunatic, mind you, but even if it runs in families, it is hardly relevant in your case.”

“No, Thor. You misunderstand me.” Loki knew he sounded desperate, for some damn reassurance, if not understanding. “What if it’s an _it?”_

Thor watched in alarm as Loki wrapped his arms around his belly and dropped his head, his scraggy long hair falling over his face.

“Brother…”

“He says there’s nothing ugly about me,” Loki whispered, more to himself than anyone else.

But Thor caught it anyway, and his eyes immediately hardened. “There _isn’t.”_

“My own parents did not want me,” Loki said bitterly. “I think we’re being a bit ambitious here.”

Thor’s countenance stiffened. “He gave me his word.”

“A man’s word is hardly inviolable, Thor.”

“He is no ordinary man.”

“He hasn’t _seen_ me, Thor.”

“What else is there to see that he hasn’t seen?” Thor asked in confusion.

Loki resisted the urge to bare his teeth at his Brother, who seemed to have, for all his newfound wisdom, gone utterly dumb and dense once more.

Thor’s baffled look turned into a glare, and Loki wondered, not for the first time, if Thor had suddenly developed the ability to read minds.

“You are mistaken in thinking eyes are the only thing that can see perfection and imperfection.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “He _bleeds_ perfectionism, Thor. Surely you can tell, looking at the hair.”

“The one on his head, or the one on his face?”

It was the very thing they did not realise they needed to cut through the tension and Loki could not help but snigger. But his mirth left as quickly as it had come.

Loki leaned back heavily into his chair, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Thor could not bear the stifling air of defeatism around him anymore. It was very unlike Loki and it unnerved him to see his flamboyant, devil-may-care Brother so subdued, so diminished.

“Do be reasonable, Loki.”

“I am being reasonable. For once in my life, can you believe it?” Loki closed his eyes again. For some reason, he felt exhausted.

“Your idea of reasonable escapes me,” Thor said quietly. “Your previous children, the ones you carried. None of them was human, but every single one of them was perfect. In their own way.”

Thor grasped his knee, warm and tight.

“You, who keep your late children'_s_ memory alive in your heart so strongly you can hold your breath and still smell their precious scent – ” Thor’s own breath caught in his throat, “Surely you know this to be true.”

A wistful smile broke across Loki’s face slowly. Thor’s heart broke at the sight of it but he could not let it show. He must not.

“My children were magnificent, whatever their form.”

“That’s right,” Thor agreed, looking every bit the proud Uncle he once was.

Loki found the idea of erasing that proud smile away almost unbearable, yet he must persevere. “Man do not take kindly to those who look the slightest bit different, even among their own kind, Thor.”

Thor’s smile did not waver, but something in his eyes changed. “Again. Stephen is no ordinary man.”

“You hardly know him.”

“I fought alongside him in the Great Battle. A Warrior’s heart knows its fellow.”

“What if you’re wrong?” Loki whispered.

“Then you will always have me. You will always have Asgard.”

Tears suddenly blurred his vision but Loki furiously blinked them away.

“Thank you, Thor.”

Thor beamed. He patted Loki's knee awkwardly.

“So? About those tests. You’ve…made up your mind?”

“If only,” Loki sighed. If anything, he was even more conflicted, torn both ways in equal measure.

Before he could lament his dilemma any further, his stomach suddenly gave a rumble and he frowned at it. “It always does that nowadays. Why?”

Thor bellowed a hearty laughter. “Then you must join us for movie night! It’s Banner’s turn to make dinner and you know it’s always good.”

“I’d rather not, Thor. Perhaps some time alone will do me – ”

“No good,” Thor interrupted. “What you need is company, and a good meal. And I wouldn’t say no to some sunlight if I were you.”

He rose from his chair and looked Loki up and down critically. “Where is this glow I’ve heard so much about? I can’t see it.”

“Is that from One Born Every Minute too?” Loki asked dryly.

“No, it is from a very strange movie Jane made me take her to a long time ago. Something called ‘What to Expect When You’re Expecting’,” Thor said slowly.

“When you’re expecting what?” Loki asked blankly.

“That’s the mystery,” Thor said importantly. “It is a New Age thing, Brother. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Good talk, Thor,” Loki snorted. “Now would you go away already? My head and I wish to be alone now.”

Thor started for the door. “So, I will be seeing you downstairs, Brother?”

“Must I?” Loki moaned. “Can’t you just smuggle me a sandwich or something?”

“It’s lasagna,” Thor sing-songed, knowing no one with functioning taste buds could resist Bruce’s legendary, I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-meat(!) lasagna.

“…I suppose I must.”

______________________________________

“Ah, Your Highness. How very gracious of you to grace us with your presence this fine evening.”

“Bite me, Stark,” Loki said pleasantly with the most pleasant, princeliest smile he ever remembered wearing.

“I’ve missed you too, Bambi. Why is it that I don’t see much of you nowadays? You _are_ still living here?” Tony cocked his head at Loki’s brother who was piling his plate high with food at the kitchen counter. “Isn’t he?”

Loki deliberately sat on the couch right behind Tony’s bean bag and leaned in till his mouth was next to Tony’s ear. “Shall I bare my neck and have you electronically tag me? Put a tracer on me? Bug me?”

“I would have done it already if I wanted to, Lokes,” Tony said easily.

“Go on. I dare you,” Loki said silkily.

Tony turned his head sideways till their eyes met. “Tempting, darling, but you don’t make the cut anymore.”

Loki held his gaze, deadly eyes daring Tony to elaborate, and Tony gladly obliged. “You’re _taken_,” he murmured under his breath.

“What?” Loki hissed.

With a gleeful cackle, Tony pushed himself off the floor and shot across the living room, side-stepping bean bags and cupholders to join the rest in the kitchen. “Come on, Highness. Movie’s starting soon. Better get your share before your Brother devours everything.”

“What are we watching?” Thor walked over to join Loki, juggling two plates piled high with food.

“Next on our list is…The Time Traveler’s Wife.” Bruce scooped some lasagna onto another plate.

“Oh, what?” Tony groaned. “I hate that movie. Pepper made me watch it with her. Twice! I slept through it both times.”

“Well, we’ve almost run out of time travel movies, we’ve done Predestination, Looper, Men In Black 2 and 3…and I’m not watching the Hot Tub Time Machine again. And since I made dinner, I choose what we watch.”

“I swear it’s like you have a man crush on Eric Bana or something,” Tony muttered, accepting the plate from Bruce. “I have him on my Rolodex if you want me to arrange a lunch date?”

“Hilarious, Tony.”

“I do my best, buddy, you know that,” Tony said breezily. “And I wasn’t kidding about knowing him. We met at a charity event for homeless young people way back when, the guy charmed the pants off everybody.”

“Just shut up and watch the movie, Tony.” Bruce fished out a cold can of beer from the fridge and tossed it to Tony who caught it with one hand.

He tucked a bottle of water under his armpit for himself and made his way to the couch where Loki was sitting and staring blankly at the television screen.

So lost in thought, Loki did not realise Bruce had sat himself next to him until the physicist started speaking.

“So. Feeling any better?”

“What?” Loki said blankly.

“Your back. Since you’ve been out of action, I was wondering how you were doing.”

“Good,” Loki answered simply.

“Physiotherapy doing you any good?”

“Much,” Loki answered right off the bat.

Bruce nodded and asked nothing further.

Loki stole a glance at the man next to him and remembered what Stephen said.

Just before Loki could open his mouth and say something stupid like a ‘thank you’, Bruce beat him to it.

“So you a fan of Eric Bana too?”

“Who?” Loki’s forehead furrowed.

Bruce shrugged. “You’ve never joined us for movie night before.”

Loki raised his plate off his lap an inch into the air. “I came for the lasagna,” he said slowly.

Bruce laughed heartily. “Glad to see your appetite’s back. Eat up, there’s plenty.”

There was something about a room full of men persevering to watch a romantic movie because it happened to be next on a list, a list so sacred no one dared suggest swapping it for something else lest they break tradition, that somehow made them pay more attention to it, as if by suffusing the movie-watching experience with more determination would somehow make the movie more interesting.

Loki half-listened to the movie while his mind was mostly elsewhere.

“You know what would be the perfect blurb for this movie?” Tony, as always, liked to fill in no-dialogue scenes with his own lines. “The Man who Swallowed the Time Stone.”

Thor chuckled. “Yes, I believe I can see the parallel.”

“Should have invited Doctor Strange to come watch the movie with us,” Bruce agreed.

“No way,” Tony objected. “I’m not extending him a membership to Tony Stark’s Exclusive Movie Club.”

“Why not? He’s practically here every other day, helping Loki out with his back –”

“Exactly. We don’t need to see more of him than we already do, do we?” Tony stole a glance at the pale figure who had, interestingly, gone stiff on the couch behind him. “Besides, this way we can make fun of him all we want.”

The movie passed in a painfully slow blur as the protagonist’s uncontrolled bouts of spontaneous time-traveling took him to various points in time, one of which resulting him chancing upon his future wife when she was but a little girl.

“Do they end up having a child in the end? It’d be quite a terrible thing if he should pass such a volatile genetic disorder onto their offspring,” Thor commented. “Exciting, but terrible.”

If he had only looked to his right, he would have caught Loki staring at him in terror.

Having spoiled himself by reading the novel beforehand, Bruce only said imperiously. “Watch and you’ll find out.”

Some scenes ahead and the wife now sat by herself in a diner. But the audience knew she was not alone for she had just conceived and should the husband leave her to go off somewhen else, at least she would have a baby in her belly to keep her company.

Or so they thought.

A minute later, she was doubled over with cramps with blood running down her legs as the little Time Stone in her went somewhen else too before it could draw its first breath.

“Ouch,” Tony winced.

Loki’s stomach suddenly gave its own violent flip, and he uttered a small, surprised gasp.

“What’s the matter, Lo-Lo?” Tony asked sharply. His eagle eyes caught the sight of Loki’s hand lightly holding his stomach. “You need Gas-X or something?”

Bruce did not bother hiding his apprehension. “You going to be sick?”

“No. I’m fine,” Loki said hurriedly, looking wan.

Suddenly he could not watch the movie anymore. He stood abruptly. “Excuse me.”

All three heads turned as Loki bolted out of the living room with the speed of one who could not could seem to get out of there fast enough.

Thor watched his Brother’s disappearing back. “I should probably check on him.”

“He says he’s fine, Thor,” Tony brushed his concern off with an irritable wave of his hand. “Sit down.”

“He’s probably been off his food for so long the reintroduction of that much dairy probably gave his digestive system a shock,” Bruce said seriously.

Tony rolled his eyes. “What manner of nonsense is that?”

“Contrary to popular belief, you can induce lactose intolerance, you know. Go long enough without, your body stops producing the enzyme you need to digest dairy.” Bruce tapped his chin thoughtfully. “There’s some simple soup recipes I can try to ease him into it.”

“Here we go again. Bruce, give it a rest.”

“I should go check on my Brother,” Thor repeated distractedly.

“If I may interrupt, Mr Odinson,” a disembodied voice suddenly spoke. “Mr Odinson has requested that he be left to his own devices for the rest of the evening and wishes you all good night.”

“Is he alright, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“He is perfectly fine, Sir.”

“Did he tell you to say that?” Thor asked dryly.

“No, that was the inference drawn from my own observation, Sir.”

“Told you, Point Break. Let him have his beauty sleep and you can bug him again tomorrow.” Tony stole a glance at his best friend. Ever the mother hen, Bruce was probably busy running through his mental checklist on what to whip up for their resident royal freeloader next.

Tony made a dive for the control on Bruce’s lap and changed the channel to something more watchable. “Ooh, Good Omens. Dibs!”

_______________________________________________

Try as he might, he could not get himself to sleep.

Loki tossed and turned but he could find no position he could get comfortable in. His mind was too restless.

After what felt like hours, Loki threw the covers back and swung his legs down the side of the bed.

He took a couple of deep breaths to gather his resolve.

He had to do it. He had to find out. He did not think he could wait till morning so it had to be tonight.

Before he could stop himself,

_“Stephen.” _

Stephen’s response came, brusque and immediate.

_“Loki? Are you okay?”_

Loki knew he should say something, an opening statement to assuage the alarm he could clearly hear in Stephen’s voice. Calling out for him this late into the night, Loki could only imagine what must be running through Stephen’s mind. The worst, probably.

_“I will do your tests, Stephen.”_

After a pregnant pause,

_“Alright.” _Stephen sounded very guarded still. _“I’ll get right on it first thing tomorrow.”_

Loki sighed._ “Do what you will.”_

_“What made you change your mind?”_

Loki could not bring himself to say it, to tell Stephen that he had felt it _move_ for the very first time...

How this ball of energy inside him now not only had a corporeal body, that corporeal body had grown to a size that he was now making himself known to Loki, and soon to the outside world and all the terrible, evil things in it.

Loki laid his head down slowly on the pillow, and brought his knees to his chest. He cupped his hands over his tiny bump and played his thumbs over where he had felt his – no, _their_ – child flutter.

_“I just want to give him a chance.” A fighting chance._

The pusillanimity of Loki’s weak answer surprised Stephen.

To hear it in Loki’s voice before was unnerving enough, but to hear it again, telepathically, filled Stephen with so much dread it took all he had not to open a portal right into the heart of The Tower and rush to Loki’s side right this instant.

_“Loki…what are you afraid of?”_ Stephen asked as gently as possible, and perhaps this time, Loki would answer him. Truthfully. Unpretentiously.

_“What if we find something that is not…quite…right?”_

_“Then we fix it.”_

_“What if it’s not something that can be fixed?”_

Stephen’s reply came not a moment too soon. Any later, Loki would be picking pieces of his broken heart off the floor.

_“Then we embrace it.”_

Loki stopped breathing._ “You would?” _

_“Wabi-sabi, Loki.”_

_“What?”_

_“It is an aesthetic concept embraced by the Japanese, that true beauty is imperfect. Incomplete. Im-”_

_“I know what wabi-sabi means,” _Loki interrupted softly.

_“Then you know that you are worrying over nothing.” _Stephen had the gall to yawn. Loki wished he was right there by his side, if only to see if Stephen meant it to be placating, or mocking in nature.

Or perhaps Stephen was simply tired, and Loki should leave him to rest, but he could not bring himself to cut the connection off just yet –

_“Stephen…”_

_“Whatever form, whatever shape, whatever colour, Loki.” _Stephen reiterated, leaving no room whatsoever for contestation._ “He will be perfect.”_

_“You promise?”_

_“I promise.”_

And like magic, the tears stopped flowing and the pillow stopped dampening underneath the side of Loki’s face.

_“Good night, Stephen.”_

Stephen heard the smile in Loki’s voice.

_Finally._

_“Good night, Loki.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Because I adore Mark Ruffalo and Eric Bana, even before they were known as the Hulk. 
> 
> 2\. Wabi-sabi is a Japanese philosophy often described as appreciating the beauty in imperfection.


	8. Chapter 8

“Should you be doing that at the kitchen table?” Wong asked casually.

“No,” Stephen agreed easily enough. He laid out everything he needed neatly in a row, all labelled and pristine.

“What you don’t see with your naked eye…” Stephen picked up one of the phlebotomy needles to check its expiry date. Despite Wong's reservations, everything was immaculately sterile. “ – is my magic decontamination forcefield, so feel free to eat your cornflakes with as much backsplash as you want.”

Wong eyed the sharp, shiny needle with as much trepidation that stemmed from his general dislike of all things sharp and dangerous, as the ineludible bloodthirst of a seasoned warrior. “We hunting something?”

Stephen was not sure how he felt about hearing that much glee in his friend’s voice, so he dared Wong to say anything further with a half-hearted glare.

“I know adamantium alloy when I see it." Contrary to popular belief, Wong was not made the Guardian of one of the most spiritually active Sanctums on Earth for the infinitely diverse epicurean scene of New York City. "That’s not for human use.” 

“And since none of my wards has been breached…” The look in Wong’s eyes turned knowing. “That is for Loki.”

Wong dropped heavily into the chair across the table, his face contorted in an expression of horror. “Shit. Has something happened?”

Stephen said nothing.

“Goddamn it, Strange, I told you the Unification Spell was a bad idea!” Wong hissed. “What are we dealing with here? Chestburster like in Alien? Damien? Chucky?”

“Nothing has happened, Wong!” Stephen snapped hotly. “And I would appreciate it if you could refrain from making references implying that my unborn child is – ” he halted abruptly. “Loki’s here.”

They both heard the front door close.

“Say _nothing_.” Stephen seethed, his angry glare completely lost on Wong, who stood up anyway, bracing for the worst –

Loki stepped inside the kitchen. If he was surprised to see Wong, he did not show it.

“Good morning, Master Wong.” Wong only grunted in response. He took in Loki's calm, composed countenance and immaculate black suit. For someone who was supposedly four months along, the guy looked as pregnant as a lamp post. 

Aliens. What did he know.

Satisfied but somewhat disappointed that his morning was going to be uneventful after all, Wong grabbed a bowl off the counter and proceeded to pour a generous helping of cereal into it.

“Want some?” He asked grudgingly when he noticed Loki staring.

“I’d…rather not. Thank you.” Pure revulsion curled the pout of Loki’s lips. Despite his disgust, he could not contain his curiosity. “Why must humans process everything and claim it edible? Why not just eat the actual grains? How do you not get ill from that?”

“Says the alien who ate a hole right through my bedroom wall,” Wong said coolly, shovelling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“And it tasted divine,” Loki purred with an exaggerated sigh.

“Loki…” Stephen admonished gently. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Fine.” Loki rolled his eyes. “I offer you my sincerest apologies, Master Wong. I was not quite myself.”

“Uh-uh.” Wong blatantly studied Loki from head to toe, not with disgruntlement but with an avid, almost clinical curiosity. “Anything else about you that feels…off?”

“Off?” Loki’s eyebrow quirked slightly.

“Yes.” Ignoring his milk-sodden cornflakes, Wong unflinchingly met his stare.

Loki stared right back. “Strange, does he need to be here?”

“Yes…he is my assistant.” At Wong’s glowering look at having been roped in to assist without so much as a prior notice, Stephen amended, “My supervisor. In matters of healing the body or the mind, Wong is second to none.”

Wong nodded importantly. “He’s right.”

Loki sniffed. “You going to give me questionnaires to fill too?”

“Don’t need questionnaires. They’re for beginners and for stupid people who don’t trust their own judgement,” Wong said with a light sneer.

He must have answered it correctly for Loki suddenly beamed, and they finally exchanged a rare, knowing smile.

“I like him,” Loki announced. “He can stay.”

Stephen rolled his eyes.

“Aren’t you forgetting something, Your Highness?” he asked lightly.

Once again, the cornered look crept into Loki's wary eyes, but Stephen nipped the fight-or-flight response in the bud by pulling out a chair and gently pushing him into it. “We had a deal, Loki.”

With a frustrated sigh, Loki let the magic wash off him and the glamour lifted.

Wong ran a tongue along the inside of his cheek as he took in just how much Loki’s glamour was concealing, refraining from speaking lest he show too much his surprise.

Pushing his bowl aside with one hand, he held the other one out to Loki expectantly.

Loki regarded it with suspicion, before looking at Stephen pleadingly for help. “Is he asking for money? A recompense of some sort for the damages incurred to his walls?”

Stephen shook his head in amusement. “I’m the questionnaire guy, remember?”

“Ah.” Finally understanding but not necessarily liking, Loki decided that placating this angry-looking Asian man was of top priority. He reluctantly placed his wrist in Wong’s awaiting palm.

Wong’s magic felt similar to Stephen’s as it travelled up Loki’s arm and spread through his body, the heat collecting in his chest and filling his gut just as searingly hot and ill-mixed as he remembered.

“You having trouble sleeping?” Wong asked quietly after a while.

Loki did not wish to answer the intrusive question, but he had a strong feeling this other guardian was just as adept at separating the truth from his lies as Stephen.

“Some,” Loki gritted out.

“Nightmares keeping you awake at night?” Wong guessed lightly. “Or is the cramping?”

To hell with all of this. Loki was going to lie as much as he damn well pleased. “I sleep just fine.”

“Which is worse?” Wong pressed. “I need to know.”

“Sometimes it’s neither, sometimes it’s both,” Loki growled.

Wong nodded, satisfied. “Well. Some Helichrysum odoratissimum might help.”

He glanced at Stephen who was watching the exchange as surreptitiously and as intently as his task at hand would allow. “It’s native to the midlands of southern Africa, and the highlands of Mozambique, Zimbabwe, and Malawi. Do have a chat with our shaman friends in Lesotho, find out how best to prepare the herb.”

Stephen nodded wordlessly.

Wong turned his attention back to Loki. “Any particular time that you find the cramps most troublesome?”

“The last few hours before dawn are always the worst,” Loki answered, staring at Wong with new eyes.

“Both legs, or is one side worse than the other?”

“Both, but sometimes the right calf takes longer to relax,” Loki admitted. 

Wong hummed. “Try increasing your magnesium intake. Whole grains, dried fruits, nuts –”

Stephen cleared his throat. He made a mental note to drop by the Avengers Tower later for some stock checking, preferably when Loki was not looking.

Or maybe he could get Thor to take a picture of the pantry on his phone and send it.

No wait. No one had access to Loki’s pantry except for Loki and Stephen himself. “We’ll swing by the shops later and you can take some groceries home with you.”

Loki only nodded absently.

“And calcium supplements too. Surely our good friend here has given you some.”

Stephen cleared his throat again. “More than some.”

“Shut up, Stephen. Wong’s talking,” Loki said distractedly.

Stephen threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

“I don’t take the pills. They’re big and they get stuck in my throat and make me want to vomit.” Loki looked right in Stephen’s eyes when he said it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Stephen berated. He added another empty test tube onto the tube rack where it was already crowded with test tubes waiting to be filled. At Loki’s pointed look, he added viciously. “To check your serum calcium and vitamin D levels.”

“Are you always this pale?” Wong asked suspiciously.

“Yes.” Loki’s eyes turned steely. “But my Father told me I came out blue.”

Stephen’s head snapped up in alarm. “Did he ever tell you why? Did your mother have a difficult labour?"

"I don't know."

"Were you born premature?”

“I don’t…know.”

“But you did come out crying?” Stephen pressed.

“I must have. How else could Odin have found me?” Loki muttered under his breath. 

“What?”

“Nothing,” Loki averted his gaze. “I know nothing."

“Alright, Loki.” Wong looked at Stephen sharply, who caught the subtle shake of his head. “Alright.”

All Stephen had ever told him about Loki’s parentage was that he was adopted, and Wong could only assume that something must have happened between Odin picking him up at the adoption centre in Asgard when he was a baby, and Loki dropping his adoptive father in a care home for the elderly in the heart of New York City that was responsible for the sudden cloud hanging over their heads.

“One last question.”

“Shoot,” Loki said softly, still not looking at either of them.

“You still feel like eating my walls? Dirt? Rocks?” Wong asked in the valiant attempt to cheer him up. It was a well-kept secret, but Wong had a soft spot for orphans, being one himself…even thousand-something-year-old ones. “Cornflakes? They’re iron-fortified.”

Loki finally cracked a very small smile. “Sure, why not.”

________________________________________

As the last of the test tubes was filled to its specified capacity, Stephen gently withdrew the adamantium needle from Loki’s arm and was about to press a cotton swab to the puncture wound in the inner bend of Loki’s elbow when it closed and disappeared in a matter of seconds.

“Huh. That would come in handy if you ever get injured in battle,” Wong noted with the tiniest hint of envy.

“Only if it doesn’t penetrate the superficial muscle layers and the blade isn't laced with poison.” Loki fussed with the sleeve of his shirt. “Any deeper, it disturbs the…what’s the word… internal homeostasis and interferes with my inherent abilities to self-heal.”

“Okay, so not that great.” Wong felt more at ease now.

“Sorry to disappoint.” Loki smirked. “My blood isn’t going to help very much if you’re looking to develop some kind of super-soldier serum for the masses.”

Stephen shut the cooler box lid with a clank. “I wouldn’t be so sure. I was told I could fetch quite a sum for it on the black market.”

Loki’s smile faded. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Stephen frowned. “Loki, that was a joke.”

“Oh.” Loki forced a laugh. “Silly me.”

Loki still looked too pasty too suddenly for his liking.

“You alright?” Stephen asked sharply.

“Yeah,” Loki said cheerily, but if anything, his forced cheeriness made the shadows in his eyes more prominent.

He asked abruptly, “Is that all?”

“No,” Stephen said slowly. He was still mighty worried, but there was not much he could do for now. He produced a specimen bottle the size of his palm and placed it on the table within Loki’s reach. “I’ve saved the best for last.”

“What’s this for?” Loki asked sombrely. Judging from the size of the bottle, “More of my hair? Dental fillings? Lung tissue?”

“Just pee,” Stephen said breezily. “If you please.”

Stephen braced himself for Loki’s refusal, and no one was more surprised than he when not only did he not get one, Loki seemed almost _grateful_ for the chance to disappear as he snatched the bottle off the table and practically flew out of the kitchen. 

“Well. He’s certainly an interesting fellow,” Wong offered his professional observation. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Stephen.”

“I sure do,” Stephen’s drawl ended in a sigh as he dropped his ass into a chair, and his head into his hands.

Wong studied his friend’s dejected profile. “I can see them checklists ticking themselves in your head.”

“You can?” Stephen asked dryly.

“Volatile thing.”

“So you keep telling me,” Stephen growled, lifting his head, “Over and over. But guess what? It’s done."

Wong stared at him, expressionless.

Stephen stressed, "Loki and I, we are in this together, whether you like him or not.”

“I meant the _spell_, Stephen,” Wong said calmly. “There is no telling when it’s going to unravel, and what’s going to happen when it does.”

_“If,”_ Stephen corrected.

“You are risking the life of your lover and your unborn child on an _‘if’?”_

“He’s not,” Stephen corrected again.

“Not what?”

“What you said.”

“What, your lover?” Wong shook his head in disbelief. “You choose to dissect my wording, over heeding my warning? Did you even tell him what he was getting himself into?”

“I know what I’m doing, Wong,” Stephen said finally.

“I certainly hope so,” Wong said darkly. “Cos you ain’t convincing anybody with this whole ‘I know better’ attitude.”

Stephen clenched his jaw tightly. “You will not tell him.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Wong held his hands up in surrender.

After a beat, “He feels all kinds of messed up inside, Stephen.”

“What do you mean?”

Wong searched for the right word. “Fragile. Mentally and physically. His seidr wanes and waxes, but I couldn’t tell if it’s the pregnancy, or something he’s always had. And the baby…” he hesitated.

“What? What’s wrong with the baby?” Stephen asked, his heart thundering in his chest.

“The baby himself is…strong,” Wong said haltingly. “He clings to Loki, but only just.”

“What are you trying to say, Wong?”

“I’m saying that your Unification Spell may have merged your magic and Loki’s seidr together and saved the baby, but the hold is…precarious.”

Stephen felt numb. “So, what does that mean? That he’s going to miscarry?”

Wong shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. Right now, Loki’s seidr is the only thing fighting his body’s natural response to expel the baby like it would any foreign body, so it wouldn’t do to have him exert himself. I suppose it is a good thing you’ve got him benched from active duty then.”

A moment of silence ensued, tense and heavy.

“Yeah,” Stephen finally heard himself say.

“We gotta keep a really close eye on him, Stephen,” Wong said. He looked almost as worried as Stephen felt. “Can’t let the tether snap before its time."


	9. Chapter 9

“Majesty,” She called out in sing-song, “I know you’re there. Stop lurking around, it’s creepy.”

The rightful King of Asgard popped his blond head through the door and returned in kind, “Your Majesty.” Much to Brunnhilde’s chagrin, Thor then gave a full-blown, flourishing bow at the waist, and made to straighten to his full height before hitting the top of his head on the beam. _“Ow!”_

“Nice,” Brunnhilde said dryly.

Rubbing his head ruefully, Thor whined, “How did you know it was me?”

No one had footsteps quite as thunderous as the God of Thunder himself; she could hear him coming from a mile away.

“My spies told me.” She wiggled her phone in the air. “This thing’s fantastic by the way. It gives me updates on unusual weather phenomena, and judging by the sudden thunderstorms ravaging the East Coast all the way across the Atlantic Ocean? It could only be you.”

“Here.” She shoved a bundle of important-looking papers in his face. “Make yourself useful and sign these. It is technically your job, by the way.”

“Which you happen to be brilliant at, by the way.”

“Please. I’m only doing the bare minimum, just enough to keep our people from rioting,” she muttered. “Give me demons, dragons, beasts to slay, not diplomatic meetings and stuffy dinners with heads of state.”

“Whose bollocks you’ve charmed right off their stuffy pants, I hear.” He wiggled his phone in her face. “I’ve got my spies too.”

“Thaaat’s nice,” Brunnhilde drawled. “You do know I’m not allowed to drink at these events, don’t you?”

“Why not?” Thor frowned.

“Your infuriating Brother sent a circular to every member of our delegation to ensure that the acting Queen of Asgard does not drink herself into a stupor at politically important dinner parties and embarrass us all.”

“W-ell…” Thor did the semi-grimacing, semi-snickering thing with his face he always did that always infuriated her to no end, “ – he kind of does have a point…”

“It was one time, Thor, one time!”

“Although I kind of see the appeal, she really was quite diplomatic about the whole…flirting…thing,” Thor attempted to placate her, “I mean you must have done something right. She lifted the embargo her predecessor had on us and now we don’t have to import potatoes from halfway across the world anymore. ”

“Only because your Brother did that debonair thing with his eyes and his voice and melted her all eight ways to Sunday,” Brunnhilde sighed. “A shame, to be wasting that nice a – ” she cleared her throat at Thor’s pointed look. “- _derrière_ on men.”

Thor froze. “Whose ass?” So much for watching the language. “Loki’s?”

“_What?_ NO!” Brunnhilde recoiled in horror. “What are you even – never mind.”

Apparently still absorbed in self-pity, “I seem to have lost my touch. Must be something in the water,” she said glumly.

“Must be,” Thor concurred out of courtesy, and desperation to not think about any of his Brother’s body parts being associated with anybody, man or woman. “Better luck next time, Valkyrie.”

“Ass that nice only comes along once every few hundred years, so I ain’t holding my breath.” Brunnhilde narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Why are you back here, anyway?”

“Just checking in, that’s all.”

“Is it not enough that I’ve got Loki micro-managing me from afar, now you too?” She grumbled.

“Sorry. Please, don’t let me interrupt whatever you were doing,” Thor mumbled, waving a hand, hoping to appear dismissive but Brunnhilde, who knew her King down to every quirk and mannerism, was not easily fooled.

She placed her quill pen down on Thor’s writing table and sat back in Thor’s chair. She looked larger than life, and Thor felt his mask slip.

He sighed, and dropped heavily into the chair across from her.

Mirroring his sigh, and since open questions always worked best, “What seems to be the trouble, Your Majesty?”

“Valkyrie…ever since we came to Earth, how many live births have we had?”

“Births?” Brunnhilde blinked. It was unexpected, but Thor was in the right, asking the question; if they ever had any hope to revive a dying nation, they would need to repopulate. “At last count…a hundred and twenty-three.”

“That’s…a lot. Right?”

She looked at him sharply. “Not if it’s accumulative data over three years, Thor. Our people aren’t copulating very much. Or at least, not very effectively and productively.”

She shrugged. “Like I said, there must be something in the water. Or the air. Or the Midgardian diet. Take your pick.”

“But our Healers are quite adept at handling the, ah, deliveries and whatnot?” Thor asked awkwardly. “Skill-wise?”

Brunnhilde frowned. “Well…we have not had any stillbirths, if that’s what you’re asking. Besides, it’s quite straightforward, isn’t it? Making babies and having them?”

Thor did not even crack a smile.

“Thor, what is this about?”

With each passing second that Thor did not speak, realisation trickled in insidiously before it finally hit her like a ton of bricks.

“With all due respect, Majesty…” Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the edges of Thor’s table and heaved herself up out of her chair. “Did you get someone with child?”

Thor finally met her gaze but the haunted look in his eyes was a far cry from the elation she would expect from anyone in Asgard, their King especially, at the prospect of securing the line of succession with an heir, hopefully the first of many. 

“Thor, what is it?” Her eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you got involved with a married woman?”

“No!” Thor said heatedly. “But yes. Someone is…with child.”

If Thor was being all shifty and vague, it would not do to have the whole palace listening in. She marched to the door and locked it behind her.

“Well, then, tell me!” Her voice dropped to a loud whisper. “Who is she?”

“Well…you know that thing you said about Loki micro-managing you?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that anymore.”

“Loki got someone pregnant?” She whistled. “Get out of here!”

Thor winced again.

“Yeaah…you wanna have another go?” He pleaded with his eyes; if Brunnhilde got to it on her own, he could at least be spared Loki’s wrath once his Brother found out Thor had divulged his secret to the biggest mouth in the whole of New Asgard.

“No.” Brunnhilde’s mouth gaped open. “No way.”

“Wh-What?” Thor almost stammered. Please get it right this time, Val, he prayed silently.

“Loki’s _pregnant?”_

All breath escaped Thor in a whoosh and he nodded frantically.

“How? When?” Brunnhilde found herself sitting on the very stack of important papers she had put aside for Thor. _“Who?”_

Thor leaned forward and buried his head in his hands. “The Sorcerer Supreme.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Who?”

“Remember the Great Battle when thousands upon thousands of portals opened up the sky, whereupon we mobilised every able man and woman to war against The Mad Titan?”

She nodded. Who doesn’t? Her eyes said.

“The wizard who opened up those portals? That’s what they call him, the Sorcerer Supreme. That’s his title,” Thor said grudgingly.

She whistled again. “Sounds like Loki’s bagged himself a winner.” At Thor’s instant look of distaste, she retracted her first statement hastily, “Uh, no?”

“Why? What’s wrong with him?” She jumped to her feet. She was too excited to sit. “Don’t tell me. He’s married?”

Thor shook his head.

“He’s refusing to take responsibility?” Her hand flew to the hilt of her sword. “Do you want me to kill him?”

Thor shook his head dejectedly. “I already tried. Loki stopped me.”

Her eyebrows shot up to meet her hairline.

“_Did_ he? Interesting,” she murmured. “Wait, where is Lackey now?”

“He’s…with the wizard,” Thor muttered. “I dropped him off this morning. I’m due to pick him up anytime but I just had to come and talk to you. I feel like I’m going mad.”

“Why do you need to shuttle him around?” Brunnhilde asked, alarmed.

“Ever since Loki conceived, he hasn’t been able to teleport without becoming dreadfully ill,” Thor said, lines of deep-seated worry etched on his face. “I fear the pregnancy is taking a toll on him. Or his seidr, I don’t know. That’s why I was asking about the Healers.”

“But he hasn’t even been to see the Healers, has he?” she said heatedly. “Back in my day, he would not even dream of stepping a foot outside the palace until the babe is well and born. The _cheek!”_

Thor only looked at her helplessly.

She crossed her arms. “Get him to come home!”

“Believe me, I’ve tried,” Thor snorted.

“Well, try harder,” Brunnhilde said irritably. “Knowing your Brother, he wouldn’t step a foot inside one of those Midgardian hospitals. And we’re not talking injuries here, Thor.”

“I know, Valkyrie,” Thor said quietly. “On the bright side, the Sorcerer Supreme is also a doctor, if that makes you feel any better?”

“What kind of doctor?”

“Is there more than one?”

“We’re on Midgard, Thor. Everybody’s a doctor. Even weirdos flying about in a blue police box.”

“The kind that _matters_,” Thor’s voice was starting to rise, before it suddenly dropped to a sullen mutter, “At least, I hope he’s one.”

“You don’t seem to like this Sorcerer Supreme fellow very much,” Brunnhilde said lightly.

“Strange.” Thor forcibly pulled the topmost folder from under Brunnhilde’s rump to salvage it before it crumpled beyond readability. It also served as a distraction because this conversation was turning out to be just as vexing as how it had sounded in his head on his flight over. “Call him Strange.”

Brunnhilde stared at him for a few puzzled seconds before shrugging. “If you insist. You can hardly call Lackey normal by any measure of the word, so maybe he’s found a match in the man.”

“No, no, that’s his actual name,” Thor said darkly. “Doctor Strange, can you believe it?”

He flipped through the folder in a vicious manner. “And no, I don’t like the man. I don’t think he treats Loki very well.”

Brunnhilde wavered between critically analysing Thor’s train of thoughts, and reaching for her sword again.

The itch to cut faded quickly enough, for she knew, out of all people, how protective Thor could be of his little brother. “How does he treat His Royal Brattiness, pray tell?”

“He got Loki pregnant the very first night they got together, doesn’t that tell you enough?” Thor asked irritably. “He’s a doctor and a wizard, shouldn’t he have been more responsible?”

“Making babies. Straightforward. Big deal.” She shrugged. “What else?”

“He keeps insisting Loki come stay with him when Loki doesn’t want to. He buys Loki groceries from unknown grocers with no supermarket labels on them,” Thor’s barrage of complaints continued, “And he takes Loki to the strangest places –”

“Like where?”

“His family home in France,” Thor grumbled, “Didn’t even return him properly. Loki looked like a drowned rat.”

“He’s French?” Brunnhilde’s eyes lit up. “They say French men are the best lovers on Midgard.”

“Focus, Valkyrie, focus!” Thor threw the folder onto the table, and pulled out another one, nearly ripping it in half before Brunnhilde finally budged and shifted her derrière a distance away.

“These days when Loki comes home, he’s either as sick as a dog, as cranky as a toddler, or a crying mess!”

Thor froze. “I think I’ve said too much. Valkyrie, please don’t tell him I said that.”

“And Lackey keeps going back to him?” She asked slowly.

Thor nodded sullenly.

“Then there’s your answer, Majesty,” she said coolly. “He likes him.”

“Is it really costing us this much to import cereal crops?” Thor asked, scrutinising the report in front of him. “Barley? What do we need this much barley for?”

“To make beer, what else?” Brunnhilde rolled her eyes and snatched the folder out of his hands. “Focus, Majesty, focus!”

“How is Lackey doing?” She asked quietly. “How far along is he even?”

“Three-and-a-half moons? Four?” Thor’s eyes dimmed. “Somewhere there.”

“Look, Majesty, I know you’re worried, but this can only be a good thing. Right?” If there was one thing that Sakaar and Ragnarok taught her, there was a silver lining in every cloud, even if the cloud was capricious and temperamental and went by the moniker God of Mischief, with him being a flight risk and all, “Maybe this is what Lackey needs.”

She added for good measure. “I know it’s definitely something Asgard needs.”

Thor did not even look up from hands clasped tightly between his knees.

She braved a reassuring pat on his rippled, mountainous shoulder and frowned at how tense it felt. “He’s going to be alright, Thor.”

_________________________________

Upon returning to the kitchen, Loki found Stephen alone, his friend no longer in sight. A peculiar sensation twisted his gut and he knew not if what he was feeling in the pit of his stomach was relief, or alarm.

Loki placed the specimen bottle soundlessly on the stainless-steel dish in front of Stephen, whose only acknowledgement of Loki’s presence was a short nod and a curt ‘Thanks.’

“Will that be all?”

Stephen did not answer. For some reason he looked deeply troubled, and Loki wondered just what had transpired between him and his friend the very knowledgeable Master Wong, to have precipitated such disharmony in the air.

Loki could only hope it wasn’t him.

Whatever it was, there was no reason why Loki must subject himself to this awkwardness any longer than necessary. “Well then. I’ll be off.”

“Sit down,” Stephen said softly.

A gentle breeze and a blink of an eye later, Loki found himself sitting in Stephen’s own reading chair in the sorcerer’s private study, a sweating glass of ice-cold orange juice in his hand.

Stephen was leaning against the wall by the windows a few feet away, his arms crossed across his chest.

The troubled look, unfortunately, was not lost in transit, and it only served to make him look cross.

“I’ve booked you in for an ultrasound this afternoon, if that’s alright.”

Loki took a small sip of juice. Tart and sharp, just the way he liked it.

“Is that the one that lets you count the baby’s toes and things?” He asked casually. Thor had his own way with words sometimes, and paraphrasing would simply take too much of an effort. 

“Uhm, we look at other more important parameters first, but sure if you want to count them, we can do that,” Stephen said haltingly. “I’m sure the sonographer takes special requests.”

“Wait.” Loki looked up slowly. “It’s not going to be you?”

“It’s not really my field, Loki,” Stephen said irritably. “Brain’s more my thing. Babies, not so much.”

Long seconds passed in tense, awkward silence.

“I…don’t think I’m up for it after all, Stephen.”

“What do you mean?”

Just as Stephen made it appear out of thin air, Loki made the half-empty glass disappear with a sleight of hand. Now that both his hands were free, he immediately wrapped his arms around his belly. “I won’t do it.”

“Loki…” The frustration was creeping back into Stephen’s voice.

“When I consented to this, Doctor…” Loki’s tone sharpened. “It is conditional. Not a blanket consent.”

“It’s the least you can do, Loki,” Stephen said in a low growl. “You’re already showing. You’ve left it as late enough as it is.”

“No. I have given you my hair, my blood, my _piss._” Loki shook his head in sheer disbelief at what he been reduced to doing. “Let us give it a rest for now, while I still have a shred of dignity. Whatever’s left of it.”

“What is so wrong about having someone else do the scan?” Stephen demanded. “You and I both know you can make yourself look like anybody in the world – ”

“Only on the outside, Strange!” Loki snapped.

Stephen’s head reared, the white highlights in his hair catching in the sun. 

“And it’s hardly going to change your management, is it?” Loki fought to keep his voice calm. It would not do to give away so much. “If he turns out to have more limbs than you humans are used to in your offspring, what would you do? Cut him out of me?”

“Loki,” Stephen said very quietly, “I told you. It doesn’t matter.”

Loki closed his eyes. “I know you did.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Stephen asked, more gently this time.

“It doesn’t matter to _you.”_

Loki sighed, feeling suddenly very tired, “You humans are curious creatures by nature, Strange. I know this first-hand.”

“I will never let anyone harm you,” Stephen said, tiring too of the same argument every time they talked. “All the people you’ve met, I trust them with my life. They are only looking to help you.”

“With some things, I need help.” Stephen walked over slowly to where Loki was sitting, rigid as a statue, and knelt down.

Stephen grasped Loki's knee who immediately stiffened. “I can’t do everything on my own, Loki. It will only do more harm than good.”

Loki still refused to meet his gaze, and loath as Stephen was to admit it, it kind of hurt.

“Why can’t you just trust me?” Stephen asked.

Loki finally looked at him, eyes wet with the threat of tears. “Why can’t _you?_”

Stephen felt his throat constrict.

How was he to share with Loki his greatest fear? Of losing something he did not know he wanted, something the Fate dangled before his eyes and was now threatening to take away?

“I just – ” Stephen pursed his lips. He was no stranger to tears, but he could not stand the sight of Loki’s. “I just want to make sure everything’s alright, that’s all.”

“But everything _is_ alright, Stephen,” Loki implored. “Just the other night, I felt him move for the first time.”

Stephen’s heart fluttered, “You did? He did?”

Loki’s eyes shone. “Yes.”

Stephen broke into a huge smile and reached for Loki’s tiny bump. “Hey, little one...”

Everything came to a standstill as Loki stared. Amazing how one smile could light up Stephen's entire face, dark and sullen not a minute ago, now bright and

_happy_

He looked down at Stephen’s hand, gentle and warm on his belly. 

“If it means that much to you…I’ll do it." Loki inhaled deeply. "But on one condition.”

“Name it,” Stephen murmured.

“You allow me to erase your sonographer’s memory once we’re done.”

Stephen’s hand stilled mid-caress. “No. No magic.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “It really isn’t that complicated, Stephen -”

“No, I mean it, Loki.” Stephen looked up, his eyes suddenly filled with fear. “No more magic. No more mission.”

Loki frowned. “What?”

“Please. Just trust me on this.” Stephen grabbed Loki’s hand. “You need to…conserve your energy. For the baby,” he added as an afterthought after the suspicious look on Loki’s face.

“Stephen, what’s going on?” Loki asked quietly. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Stephen ignored his questions, for his anxiety was near bursting point, and if he did not let it out, it was only going to overflow, “If you experience any abdominal pain or bleeding, no matter how mild, I want you to call me.”

“All this concern is flattering, Doctor, but it is quickly becoming unbearably overbearing and I’m afraid I must take my leave now.” Loki made to pull his hand away, but Stephen was not budging.

“You don’t have to leave.”

“Oh, but I _do.”_

“Stay here with me.”

“No.”

“Three nights out of a week.”

“No.”

“Just…try it before you say no. Two nights.”

Loki glowered.

“Alright, one. Just one night.”

“I had one night with you and look where we are,” Loki said dryly. “No.”

“Loki, I can’t very well ask Stark to give me a room at his Tower when I’ve got a place of my own right here.”

“Do you ever take no for an answer?”

Stephen did not answer him immediately, hoping the longer he left the question unanswered, the quicker Loki would realise for himself the rhetorical answer to his own question.

“Why would you even want to?” Loki asked lightly, but something in his eyes had changed.

“I just…” Stephen’s voice trailed. The intensity of Loki’s gaze was disconcerting, and Stephen raked a hair through his hair in a vain attempt to hide his flustration. “I just want to be _close.”_

“To whom?”

Stephen’s throat dried.

_You can’t even say it, can you?_

Loki’s sad, sad eyes offered a glimpse into their bottomless depth of sorrow, but only for a fleeting second, before his biting words destroyed all hope of emotional compromise. “I’ll look after your precious child, Strange.”

“Even if it costs me my life,” Loki heard himself say, and it filled him with such horror that he could not bear to be touched – when he pulled his hand away, it slipped out of Stephen’s grasp easily enough this time.

The moment broken beyond repair, Loki knew there was no salvaging it, not today. “Good day, Doctor.”


	10. Chapter 10

_Central Park, Manhattan_

“Don’t shoot at it, Stark!” Loki snarled, “You agitate it, it will hurt whoever’s inside its belly!”

“No shit!” Tony yelled, “Then how do you suggest we take it down without harming Thor?” He surveyed the ground below, “Better come up with something quick, Bambi, before it levels the entire place and turns everyone into smoked brisket!”

Thought after thought raced through Loki’s mind at lightning speed, each one more dangerous and destructive than the one before, but what Loki had always lacked in might, he made up for it in wit and strategic intelligence.

There was no better time to be an overachiever than when your only Brother was trapped inside the belly of a mythical beast with a corporeal form that could electrocute you to death upon contact.

“Alright, here’s the plan.” The strategist in him was in charge now and everyone had better damn listen. “First, we need to keep it away from the civilians and bodies of water -"

“How do we do that if we can’t shoot at it or engage in close combat with it?” Barton snapped into the intercom.

“Yeah…luring it to Central Park probably wasn’t that good an idea,” Steve said tersely. “He’s heading for the lake!”

“My, my. You humans sure like to interrupt when your elders are talking,” Loki sassed. “Will you shut up and listen?”

“Sorry, Pop-Pop.” Tony flew down to join him, sweeping his eyes across the lake where auxiliary police officers were trying to get people to get out of the water, but one could only row so fast across twenty of acres of water without tiring. “What’s the plan, Magic Man?”

“We need to form a magnetic force field around him. I trust all of you have something made of metal on you?” There was a round of collective aye's, and Loki nodded. “Align yourselves into a circle around him. Leave the rest to me.”

Loki began to draw runes in the air to access his pocket universe where he kept his most dangerous possessions for the one thing he needed.

Tony stared at the fistful of blue-green material that had suddenly materialized in Loki’s hand. “Sapphires?”

“Cobalt,” Loki smiled sadistically. “Bastard won’t know what hit him.”

“Are you _crazy?”_ A rough voice blared through the intercom.

“Ah, Dr Banner. How nice of you to join us.”

“A cobalt bomb? Are you out of your mind? You will contaminate the entire city with the radioactive fallout!”

“Not if it detonates inside _it.” _The excitement tasted sweet on Loki’s tongue. “Not if I then direct the yield into dimensional energy and send its remains back to whichever Dimension it came from.”

“You mean it’s not from around here?” Steve asked dryly.

“Uh, I don’t mean to burst your bubble, sweetheart, but your dear brother’s in there,” Tony argued. “How do you plan to blow Pacific Rim up without ripping Thor into shreds?”

“Don’t you know? We Asgardians are immune to Earth metal gamma rays.”

A wistful “How nice,” came from Banner.

“Are we doing this or are we not doing this?” Barton yelped, when he narrowly missed a swipe of the monster’s massive claws as he tried to pull an elderly tourist out of her boat onto the bank of the lake.

“At my signal…” Loki took off his horned helm. For the spell he was about to cast, he did not need it. “Unleash _hell.”_

“Damn, Maximus.” Tony whistled. “That is one sexy move.”

"Dream on, Stark."

______________________________________

_Sanctum Sanctorum_

“Strange, I think you’d better take a look at this.”

“What is it?” Stephen asked distractedly.

“Strange, get your ass in here right now.” Wong sounded angry.

Stephen sighed and bookmarked the online article he was reading so he could go back to it later.

“I thought the whole idea of being Sorcerer Supreme is to not have to listen to you if I don’t want to?” He grumbled as he searched for the source of the disruption to what could have been a peaceful afternoon of reading. “What is it?”

Glued to the only television set they owned, Wong waved him over frantically. “Come on, you need to see this!”

Wong turned the volume up.

It was set to the news channel. Stephen squinted. “Is this live?”

“Yeah.” Wong’s eyes darted left and right as he tried to follow the image of the beast on the screen. Whoever had taken the video was either very frail or very amateur or very scared.

But there was no mistaking it.

_Loki._

“What the hell is he doing there?” Stephen demanded.

“I don’t think he had a choice,” Wong said gravely. “That’s a Raiju. A mystical beast from Japanese folklore, a wolf creature made of lightning.”

“Thor?” Stephen summoned the Cloak of Levitation and fumbled in his breast pocket for where he kept strands of Loki’s hair.

Wong swallowed hard. “Witnesses claimed the God of Thunder was incapacitated by the beast…and devoured.”

Stephen’s mouth fell. “I’m going in.”

“Be careful, Strange,” Wong warned. “This demon…it is not from our world. Wherever it came from, someone must have summoned it.”

“Magic?”

Wong nodded gravely. “You have to get Loki out of there, Stephen.”

____________________________________

Stephen stepped out of the portal just in time to see the Avengers form a loose circle around the beast. Tony hovered a few feet in the air, while the others crouched in standby mode on the ground at various points equidistant to each other by about thirty yards or so...and dead right at the centre of the circle was Loki, staring the beast in the face.

A blue cube emanated birefringent viridian rays from within, held afloat between Loki’s hands.

_The Tesseract?_

No. It was not the Tesseract. It was the wrong colour. Wrong shape.

Wrong _energy_.

Stephen looked to his far right and saw The Hulk frantically gesturing for him to take cover, mouthing one word over and over –

_Bomb_.

As if in slow motion, Stephen saw everyone duck, and it was then he knew that Loki had just given them the signal.

_Loki_.

“No, Loki!” Stephen was about to leap into the circle when an invisible hand yanked on The Cloak from behind; whoever it was, he had the strength of three men, or at least that was how it felt like to Stephen when he crashed heavily into the side of a concrete gazebo.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Loki hissed in his ear, before pulling Stephen into his embrace, _“Duck!”_

Stephen watched through the gap between Loki’s gangly limbs as the Raiju charged toward Loki’s body double and swallowed it whole.

A sudden, deafening roar filled his ears as a blinding, white light washed over them, engulfing the entire area in a screaming inferno of mad screeching and deadly miasma of toxic fumes.

Dimly, Stephen could hear Loki utter a word, foreign and guttural, and the protective shield of seidr enveloping them expanded, its radius encroaching the whiteout at the speed of a roaring wildfire, obliterating the deadly gamma rays.

_“Loki, you’re using too much magic!”_

_“I’m not done yet, Strange!”_ Loki roared in his head. _“I need to contain the blast radius or we are all going to die!”_

All it took was the sight of sweat beading on Loki’s forehead to spur Stephen into action.

He concentrated and summoned all his energy.

Loki must have sensed the rise of mystical energy in the atmosphere. _“Strange, what are you doing?!”_

Stephen did not answer. Raw energy shot out of his outstretched hands in a stream of golden light and he watched it mingle with Loki’s seidr to form an intricately beautiful mosaic of green and gold. He watched as the radioactive residues from the cobalt bomb and alien biological matter began to dissipate little by little, particle by particle.

Five minutes later, Stephen looked up at the clear Manhattan sky, crystalline blue once more.

Panting heavily beside him, Loki scrambled to his knees and clumsily grappled for the intercom that had fallen to floor in all the commotion.

“Anybody has eyes on Thor?” Loki barked.

“I’ve got him, Loki,” Steve Rogers’ voice crackled through. “He’s coming around. Looks like he’s unharmed.”

Loki heaved a sigh of relief, and sagged against Stephen a little. In his exhaustion, it took him a few seconds, but when he finally realised what he had done, he pushed Stephen away and ripped the intercom out of his ear. “I told you not to interfere!”

Stephen only rolled his eyes. “You’re welcome.”

“Do you realise how close you came to unravelling the spell?” Loki snapped. “The Raiju could have escaped to another dimension before it was well and truly dead!”

“Good riddance either way, isn’t it?”

“It could have taken Thor with it!”

“Well it didn’t, and you’re lucky I was here to help, or the spell _would_ have collapsed!” Stephen berated loudly. “What were you thinking, casting a spell of such scale without backup?”

Loki barked a laugh. “Who, _you?”_

“If you couldn’t stomach the idea of asking me for help, ask Wong! Or any of my fellow Guardians, I don’t care!” Stephen exclaimed. “Just don’t go it alone no matter how good a sorcerer you think you are!”

Loki’s face twisted into an ugly snarl. “So this is what you wanted? You betrayed me for a little bit of the spotlight?”

Stephen gaped in disbelief. “How –” he clenched the side of his head in frustration, “ – was all this _betraying_ you?”

“I told you, I had it under control,” Loki’s voice had gone dangerously soft. “I never needed you before, and I certainly do not need you now.”

Stephen clenched his jaw. “Yeah well tough luck. You’re on my planet, you’re playing on my turf. And I say game over!”

“For once in your life have you ever let anything out of your control?” Loki hissed.

“Yes, on the night I slept with _you!”_ Stephen finally snapped.

Loki’s head jerked violently.

“Finally, Doctor,” Loki said in quiet awe. Amazing how one could smile so widely yet still exude such sorrow through his eyes, where only moments ago, held only anger. “The crux of the matter.”

He shook his head and his black hair fell over his face, finally obscuring his eyes. “I did not realise this was all it took to break you.”

“Loki…”

Loki’s soliloquy continued, as bitter as gall, “How do you seek to control me now?”

“I seek to keep you safe,” Stephen snapped before his voice dropped a few decibels. “For the sake of the baby!”

“Of course. That’s all you care about, isn’t it,” Loki sneered, but his lips were trembling. “The _baby.”_

“For all your brilliant mind, you are _infuriating_,” Stephen seethed, and against his better judgement, grabbed Loki around his upper arms. “How can I care for one thing and not the other when they are inseparable?”

Loki lifted his chin, a stubborn glint in his eyes.

“Must I say it, Loki? I _care_ about you!”

Loki inhaled sharply.

But Stephen was far from finished.

“And I cannot sit around and watch you throw yourself into the fire and cross my fingers that you don’t get burned!” His eyes flashed angrily. “You overexert your seidr and the baby dies, Loki!”

“What makes you think I do not know?” Loki screamed in his face and wrenched himself free, physically pushing Stephen backward a few steps with his seidr.

Stephen’s mouth fell open in utter surprise and sheer disbelief.

“You knew?” He whispered, aghast. “You put yourself in danger, and all this while, you _knew?”_

“Why do you think I’ve laid low these past few months, Strange?” Loki waved a rabid hand at the scene of devastation before him. “Here’s a hint. It has nothing to do with my back. I’ve gone into battle with _much_ worse and emerged victorious,” he finished with a sibilant hiss.

“So why are you out here today?” Stephen demanded. “To be contrary? To spite me?”

“You think too highly of yourself, Sorcerer Supreme,” Loki growled. "This had nothing to do with you."

“Tell me it isn’t true, see if I believe you.” Stephen took the first step toward Loki. “You can’t have a mortal telling you what to do, can you?”

“I bring Order.” A strange calmness washed over him as he grew closer and closer, step by careful step. “You bring Chaos.”

“I _am_ Chaos,” Loki spat, the tips of his fingers coiling with seidr. “And you seek to cage _me?_”

“I am Loki.” He lifted his hand and in a display of control, squashed his rage and the threatening eruption of excess magic by balling his fist, but not before the residual energy lit up one half of his face in a menacing, unearthly glow. “God of Many Faces and Divine Transformation.”

“The very essence of Yggdrasil runs through my veins.” Loki’s hand, no longer glowing with the fire of his wrath, traced unintelligible runes over the bodice of his scale armor. “There is nothing that goes on in my body that I do not know.”

_A protection spell_, Stephen realised. The strongest of its kind, tethered to Loki’s very own life force. 

Invisible to the normal human eye, Stephen saw the glimmer of the letters as they took on a life of their own, shimmering over where Stephen knew their son slumbered, incandescent and _alive_.

“I can tell you when he sleeps. When he breathes. When he dreams.”

Loki’s voice was soft and lulling, trancelike in timbre and certitude. “And I can tell you with absolute certainty that should his heart cease to beat, mine would have stopped long before his.”

Stephen watched in perplexed horror as Loki’s throat wobbled as if he was trying to swallow something that had caught. True enough, when Loki spoke next, his words came out hoarse and shaky, “Long enough for you to remove him from my body.”

“All I ask of you is to be gentle.” A lone tear slid down Loki’s ghastly pale face. “When the time comes.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Stephen whispered.

Just like that, the glazed haze of absence left, just as the light returned to Loki’s eyes, bringing with it some semblance of awareness that looked too much like grief for it to be anything less alarming.

“I learn from experience, Doctor. Frigga’s not around anymore.”

“For God’s sake, Loki, will you _please_ stop talking in riddles?” Stephen begged. “You are not making any sense.”

Loki shook his head. “That is the problem with you, Doctor Strange. You don’t listen.”

All anger drained out of him like water, and the layers of protective battle gear disappeared. Without the illusion of strength conferred by his heavy armor, Loki looked haggard and exhausted.

“If you must know, Stephen…” Loki heaved a sigh, “I came out here today for my Brother.”

“Thor could have handled himself.”

“Not against a Raiju, he couldn’t.”

All of a sudden, a gust of wind blew around them, and when the hail of debris and rubble settled at their feet from the sudden whirlwind, it revealed Thor’s hulking form like an apparition summoned to life. “Ready to go, Brother?”

“Yes, Thor. Let us leave this place.” Loki wiped a hand furiously across his face. He did not want Thor to see him crying that he might mistake the tears for relief, or worse, the results of a lovers’ spat.

He sniffed. “I told you to always sleep on your stomach, if you had only listened – still think it was just a bunch of superstitious balderdash?”

“How was I supposed to know it was going to swallow me alive?”

“The Raiju is a monster whose body is composed entirely of lightning, of course it was going to eat you, don’t you ever read?”

“Why do I need to, when I have you?” Thor wrapped his arm around Loki’s neck and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “Thank you. You saved my life.”

Loki tried to smile, but everything was coming out wrong, so he settled for a silent shrug.

If Thor could sense the tension in the air, he did not show it. He did not look too injured at least, from the way he was twirling Stormbreaker around, raring to go. “You need a ride too, Stephen?”

Stephen only shook his head numbly. “I’m good, thanks.”

“Hold on tight, Loki.”

Loki looped his arms around his Brother’s waist and threw Stephen one last parting glance.

_“Good day, Doctor.”_

A sudden breeze blew a cloud of dust in Stephen’s face, and when he opened his eyes again, Loki and Thor were gone.

____________________________________________

By the time Loki stepped into his room, it was dark outside.

Thor showed no residual ill effects from having spent a good thirty minutes stewing in the belly of a fantastical beast, and his lightning, was once again in full working order. Of course, in true Avengers tradition, they had then dragged Loki out to eat.

Any other time, Loki would have reveled in the limelight. For once, he was the star of the show, but what little he had pilfered off Thor’s burgeoning plate at the all-you-can-eat buffet place sat heavy and sour in his stomach.

In true Tony Stark (and Bruce Banner, if the mood called for it) fashion, the magnate was tireless in his attempt to lure Loki into conversation: all of which revolved around one Stephen Strange whose sudden mysterious presence had suddenly become the talk of the town.

Why was he there?

Did Loki call on him?

Whose idea was it to combine forces to defeat the wolf-beast of ancient Japan that had suddenly materialized in broad-daylight Manhattan?

Are Loki of Asgard and the Sorcerer Supreme a team now? New York’s very own Magical Boys?

Loki sighed and collapsed backward onto the firm mattress, his limbs aching and throbbing from exertion. They should not hurt this much after a day out in the field, not usually...but the alternative would have been unthinkable.

He clasped his hands over his stomach and was instantly soothed by the strong, steady beating of the tiny, little heart inside him.

Better his limbs bearing the brunt of spellcasting, than his baby. 

Loki closed his eyes, wanting nothing but to sleep, but all he could see was Stephen’s face.

He should have known better than to expect the Sorcerer Supreme to understand. Of course it had been too much to ask.

Loki pressed his thumb and index finger into his eyelids in the attempt to block it out, but the darker his retinal vision, the clearer Stephen’s face became in his mind’s eye.

It was then he realised he was lying down in total darkness.

Loki pushed himself off the bed and trudged over to the lighting control panel on the wall. He did not think he was fit for any more feats of magic tonight, not even for the simple act of switching on the lights.

_The baby's fine_. _I'm fine._

_It's fine_, he tried convincing himself for the hundredth time that day. _As long as Thor is alright._

The room was instantly bathed in light, but Loki made no move to step away from the wall.

On his pillow, golden yellow against the stark white of his sheets, was a single stalk of sunflower.

Loki frowned. He was certain it had not been there this morning when he left. And it looked…fresh.

He walked over slowly to his bed. What a funny sight he would have made. Loki of Asgard, afraid of a flower? _Please_.

Yet with a hand that seemed to shake ever so slightly, he picked it up.

After microseconds of hesitation, he held the flower to his nose.

There was no mistaking it. He would recognize the scent anywhere.

Provence.

___________________________________

_Sanctum Sanctorum_

It was a deadly quiet night in Sanctum Sanctorum. Stephen would not have caught the sound of the front door opening otherwise.

For the Sanctum to have let the person in, it must not be an enemy.

Or a stranger. Not anymore.

Stephen waited. The not-stranger would find his way to him soon enough.

In contrast, his bedroom door opened without a sound.

A few tense seconds later, next to him, the bed sank under the weight of his late-night visitor.

They listened to each other breathe for what felt like hours. At this hour past midnight, everything sure seemed louder.

“Are you alright?” Stephen was the first to break the impasse, when he could not stand the silence anymore.

“This is the only time I will speak of this to you,” Loki’s crisp voice seemed to echo off the walls.

“Your first act toward me when I came to Midgard was to cast me into prison.”

Stephen frowned for he knew he did no such thing…but something at the back of his mind warned him against interrupting Loki, now that he had chosen to speak freely at his own will.

Loki, ever the cryptic, did not bother explaining just how trapping him in an infinite free-fall was the worst form of incarceration anyone could ever subject him to. It was hardly the crux of the matter.

“You vilify me for succumbing to the Mad Titan and bringing mayhem to your Realm, when ending my life would have been the more honorable thing to do. But did you know I was trying to do just that when Thanos found me, Stephen?”

“I did not think I had the strength to recover from my family’s betrayal, so I sought to kill myself.” A small, mirthless laughter. “It did not work of course. Couldn’t even kill myself properly.”

“Loki…”

“It was not an act of mercy, or cruelty, what I did to Odin. It was cowardice,” Loki confessed. “He was old, weakened. You recognised my spell, you said.”

“Yes.”

“Even after all he had done to me…I could not kill him.” Loki’s words, apathetic at first sound, were brittle layers of sadness and despair the harder Stephen strived to listen, really _listen_.

“He may or may not have loved me as his own, but I still loved him.” A forbidden whisper. “He was the only Father I knew.”

“I would accept our child the way he is. I would spare him the web of lies Odin had me fed with for centuries. I choose to be braver.”

_Braver than Odin._

Loki hugged himself against a sudden chill. “I do not want my love for my child tainted by whatever disdain you humans have for anomalies and imperfections you unnecessarily seek out to ease your foolish fears of the unknown.”

“If you cannot accept these terms, I will spare you the burden, Doctor.” Loki's voice was thick with unshed tears. “And I hope you will do me the same justice and allow me to walk away.”

“What?” Stunned, Stephen could only stare at the dark outline of Loki’s face.

“It is only fair,” Loki whispered in grief.

“The _hell_ it is!” Stephen balled his fist to keep from bathing every square inch of the room in light with his magic; he might just accidentally lash out instead in his anger, and that would do nothing but prove Loki right. “Name me one time that I turned my back on you.”

“One time, Loki.” For some bizarre reason, Stephen’s own eyes began to sting too with bitter tears of rejection? Frustration? He could not tell anymore. “One time that I willingly and knowingly hurt you.”

“It is not you I fear, Stephen.” Loki was as serene as anything. “It is everything and everyone else out there in the universe.”

“I will protect you!”

“I don’t see how you can, Stephen. You are still so…afraid.”

Stephen had had enough. He pushed himself up on an elbow. “I am only human, Loki. _Of course_ I am.”

“It does not mean I will allow any harm come to you or our baby,” he said fiercely. “Nor does it make me a coward.”

In the dark, Loki’s eyes gleamed brilliant and green like a wild cat, but for all their intensity, his voice was soft. “Am I weak? For wanting to believe you?”

“If believing in someone is a measure of strength, then I am the weakest being in the universe. I don’t believe in gods. Only myself.”

Loki’s eyebrows furrowed, and never had Stephen felt such a strong urge to kiss someone’s forehead. He looked away in embarrassment instead, hiding it behind a veneer of esprit de corps. “Guess we just have to start believing in each other.”

“I guess we must,” Loki finally said glumly.

“So we have a deal?” Stephen asked quietly. “We trust each other, just a little?”

“I don’t…know.” A deep, forlorn sigh. “You are still a mystery to me, Stephen Strange.”

Loki sounded and looked like he was in another world.

How can you be so far away, lying by my side? Stephen’s silent thought warred with the desire swirling in his gut…the desire to reach out, to _touch_. In the dark, Stephen could barely make out the outline of Loki’s lean torso, the rounded abdomen, his long, slim legs –

_A mystery?_

“As you have been to all the world, if the legends would have me believe,” Stephen said lightly. “And yet here you are. In my bed.”

He reached out a hand across the sheet, closing the gap between them, and when Loki showed no sign of resisting, Stephen gathered the courage to rest his hand on the gentle swell of Loki’s belly. “Carrying my child.”

“A year. Isn’t that what we agreed?” Stephen implored. “What is a year to you, but the blink of an eye?”

“A heartbeat,” Loki whispered.

Stephen shook his head vehemently. “Forty-two million of mine.”

Loki turned his head slowly. A sliver of moonlight slipped through the blinds and cast a glow over his features.

Loki was wearing a very peculiar look on his face, one Stephen had never seen before.

“May I?”

Stephen nodded, despite having no idea what Loki wanted. At this rate, he would say yes to anything, just to get Loki to stay –

Loki tugged on Stephen’s arm to pull him down. Stephen obliged and settled onto his back once more, his heart hammering against his ribcage as he wondered just what Loki was planning to do.

Loki laid his head on Stephen’s chest.

Stephen sucked in a breath as time stood still.

Loki’s head was a comfortable weight on his chest, too comfortable. He did not want to scare Loki away, and when it became too painful to hold, Stephen let his breath out slowly over a few shuddering seconds.

“I can’t count that high,” Loki murmured, losing himself in the soothing rhythm of Stephen’s steadily beating heart.

“Then don’t.” Stephen closed his eyes against the thick crown of Loki’s hair. It smelled strangely of cedar and sandalwood. “You’ll lose count and then we’ll have to start all over again and where will we be?”

Loki shuddered. “Pregnant with our second.”

Stephen burst out laughing. He gave in to temptation and pressed his lips to the top of Loki’s head gently. “Never say never.”

He froze as he suddenly remembered overhearing Loki say to Thor, “I do hope you’re not still sleeping on your stomach.”

Loki stifled a yawn. “Now with the demon gone it doesn’t matter, but it does help with the backache.” He needed to be going soon, but “This position’s not so bad either.”

“You don’t have to go.” He heard Stephen say, felt Stephen’s arms tighten around him involuntarily. “Stay. It’s almost morning anyway.”

Loki’s long lashes brushed against Stephen’s bare nipple as he blinked languidly once. Twice.

“Just one night,” he acquiesced for he knew deep down in his heart of hearts, for all his powers and all his bravado, Loki of Asgard was just as weak as everybody else.

“Just one night,” Stephen agreed readily, for a win was a win, no matter how big, how small.

“Okay,” Loki said softly. “Good night, Stephen.”

Stephen did not realise how good it felt to finally be able to say the words in person until he said them. “Good night, Loki.”

Unbeknownst to him, it was the night before everything changed.

The night before Karl Amadeus Mordo came and sought to destroy everything, and everyone he held dear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand Mordo came knocking in Chapters [4](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667962/chapters/42515786#workskin) and 5 of The Contract.
> 
> 'At my signal, unleash hell' is a line spoken by Maximus Decimus Meridius in the epic film Gladiator.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place right after [Chapter 4](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667962/chapters/42515786) of The Contract, in which Loki got attacked by you-know-who.

When Loki opened his eyes the next morning, he certainly did not expect to be looking up at the nave-like architecture of the Sanctum walls, let alone the tired, anxious visage of Doctor Stephen Strange.

“How did I get here?” Loki heard his own words in his head but realised his lips never moved.

He tried again. _“How?”_

“You teleported here yesterday,” Stephen said sharply.

“Ah.” That would explain the cloyingly-sweet scent of sick lingering in the air amid the suffocating stench of disinfectant; too faint for human noses to pick up, yet still strong enough for his sensitive senses.

“How are you feeling?”

“Hot,” Loki mumbled. “And very thirsty.”

“You still feel like being sick?”

Loki shook his head slowly. He licked his parched lips and attempted a cough to clear his dry throat but it came across raspy and scratchy.

“Water, please,” he croaked finally.

“Can you sit up?”

“Of course I can, Strange,” Loki said irritably. “I’m not an invalid.”

But Loki made no move to sit, so Stephen conjured a straw and had Loki drink out of that while still in supine position; he watched as Loki gulped the ice water thirstily and wondered how anyone could do it without choking.

“Do you remember what happened?”

Loki’s forehead furrowed. His head felt heavy and his thoughts slow to come, slower to assemble into anything resembling a memory.

A ray of sunshine slipped through the blinds parting gently with the wind and hit his face.

“Thor,” he said slowly. “I had lunch with Thor.”

Stephen waited warily. The confused haze in Loki’s eyes was slow to lift.

“Shadows.” Loki turned his face so more of the sunlight could warm his skin. For all the burning in his blood, he felt perishingly cold.

“Shadows that became a man.” Loki closed his eyes. “A hooded man.”

“You are sure of this?” Stephen asked uncertainly, for the Order of the Masters of the Mystic Arts recruited men and women in equal numbers.

Loki nodded. “It felt like your magic.”

“Did you see his face?” Stephen pressed. “Did you manage to get a hit in? Injure him with a spell with a residue we could track?”

Loki shook his head again. “Like I said. It felt like you.”

Stephen’s own throat suddenly went dry. “You couldn’t – you didn’t think it was _me_, did you?”

Loki was silent for a while. Finally, “Forgive me. I have been betrayed before.”

Stephen swallowed his hurt. He had no idea what he could or should say in response, so he gave a curt nod instead.

“Did you see him use any weapon?”

“Just his hands.” Loki lifted his bandaged arm and studied the spot where his attacker had grabbed him as though he could see through the layers of crêpe. “They burned.”

“You’re alright now,” Loki heard Stephen say, yet despite the soothing words, Stephen did not sound very sure of himself.

“You’re alright.” True enough, when Stephen said it the second time, his gaze had somehow averted to somewhere around the area of Loki’s blanket-covered midriff.

Stephen cleared his throat loudly. “May I?”

Loki nodded listlessly.

Stephen gently lifted Loki’s tunic to examine his abdomen, giving it a quick look-over and noting with relief the absence of obvious bruising or swelling.

“Any pain anywhere?” he asked gently.

Loki was quick to answer this time. “No. As soon as my glamour failed, I knew I had to get out of there.” His eyes hardened. “Your child is unharmed, Strange.”

“That’s not why I asked,” Stephen muttered crossly.

Loki hummed noncommittally and Stephen suppressed the urge to sigh, _here we go again_.

“We have shared a bed multiple times, Loki,” Stephen deadpanned. “That is saying a lot.”

As commitment-phobic as I am, he added silently. 

“You could have been an illusion,” Loki said coolly.

“Unlike yours, my doubles have no physical form,” Stephen said lightly. “Now I don’t know about you, but I was physically there. All three times.”

“I was there too,” Loki said slowly, reluctantly. Then he frowned. “Three?”

Stephen resisted the urge to kiss the tip of Loki’s crinkled nose. “You were out of it last night, huh.”

“I’m still out of it, I think,” Loki let out a small, embarrassed laugh. He danced his fingers across the back of Stephen’s hand, still clasped to and a comfortable weight on his belly. “Did we…we didn’t…do anything?”

Stephen laughed silently. “No. I just held you while you slept.”

“Such a gentleman, Doctor Strange,” Loki murmured with a sigh; it was too deep to be one of content, too forlorn to be one of relief.

“Of course,” Stephen said snootily. “You haven’t even bought me coffee yet.”

That drew Loki to the shadows under Stephen’s eyes.

“You watched me all night?” Loki asked quietly.

“Not on purpose,” Stephen muttered sullenly. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Well, I’m awake now,” Loki said dryly. “You can catch some sleep if you want.”

“No, I still need to talk to my people about what happened last night.” Stephen waved a hand, gesturing for Loki to remain where he was. “Just…get some rest. You still don’t look all that well.”

Loki hated to admit it, but Stephen was right. His whole body ached and his arm was throbbing. “Gee, thanks.”

Stephen didn’t miss a beat. “You’re welcome.”

From the sounds of rolling thunder in the distance, Loki knew just who was coming, and he was torn between wanting to be awake or unconscious for it…so he chose the lesser of two evils, realising only too late that the shadow man could very well follow him to the realm of darkness but the pull of sleep was too strong –

_No, don’t take me._

His hand roamed his abdomen for his baby, the one thing he would never let anyone take from him.

_Don’t take hi –_

And once more, Loki of Asgard succumbed to the darkness, unaware of the venom running through his veins, poisoning his blood and that of his unborn son.

________________________________________

Stephen should have known to ward the Sanctum more securely after last night, against friends and foes alike. And right now? Standing alone in the drawing room with this hulking specimen of a living deity, Stephen could be forgiven for wondering if they were indeed, on the same side.

“This…unindentified wielder of sorcery you mentioned,” Thor began casually. “Are you going to tell me his true identity? Or will you insist on covering up for one of your own?”

Stephen sighed heavily. “At the risk of repeating myself, we are still in the midst of investigation and no, unfortunately, we have not identified the attacker.”

“How do I know you are telling the truth?”

It was honestly too early in the morning for another head-to-head with Thor Odinson, for this was looking to be no different from talking to an entitled child.

Stephen shrugged. “You don’t.”

Thor’s face paled in dismay as he took in the human sorcerer’s calm demeanour. “You don’t even care, do you?”

He took a thunderous step forward, “You don’t even care that Loki got hurt!”

Stephen’s form stiffened and he lifted his head slowly, a stunned expression on his face.

_There’s your answer, Majesty._

Thor could feel his own features twist in rage as Valkyrie’s words, still fresh from memory, echoed in his mind.

_He likes him._

“Watch it, Thor.” Stephen’s lips barely moved, thin and white with fury. “You are crossing a line.”

Thor was not daunted, not in the slightest. All he could see in his mind’s eye was the swath of angry red burns on Loki’s arm and the blank expression on Loki’s pale face, which Thor now realised was masking the pain his brother must be feeling. Loki never took very well to heat.

He found Stephen’s equally unreadable, blank expression absolutely infuriating. So no, he was not going to watch a bloody thing –

“Is this how you return Loki’s affection?” Thor demanded. “You keep him coming back to you. He gets hurt every time, and still you keep him coming back to _you!”_

As was his nature to avoid confronting his true feelings when accosted with something as unexpected as this revelation that the object of his interest was somehow interested back in _him_, Stephen resorted to the age-old method of deflecting: sarcasm.

“Jealous much?” He quirked an eyebrow, painfully aware that the reddening of his face was sure to give him away any second.

“You mock me.” In a blinding swirl of light, Thor swung Stormbreaker in a wide arc.

Momentarily blinded by the whiteout, Stephen could only pray that whatever he could hear shattering into pieces was not anything irreplaceable/mortally dangerous/containing djinns or anything evil that could devour them all upon being set free.

He opened his eyes to the sight of the broken remnants of Eldhrimnir (or a replica of), said to be a magical cauldron in which the boar Saehrimnir, was cooked every night for the Gods and heroes in Valhalla.

“Guess you guys have to go vegetarian from now on,” Stephen could not resist, “I will be sending the bill to your boss as recompense for the damage.”

“Your worldly threats do not frighten me, mortal,” Thor growled.

“Yes, you lot keep calling me that,” Stephen sighed. “But why is it that we cannot act our age and talk about this like sensible thousand-year-olds?”

Thor huffed and turned away from him, stomping over to the windows. Without warning, Thor slammed a vambrace-clad arm against the glass pane; from the cracking sound it made, it would have shattered into a million pieces had the Sanctum not been magically fortified with protective spells.

“I warned you right from the start, Strange. Loki is not to be harmed in any way.”

Stephen closed his eyes in frustration. “I know, Thor. And I _am_ sorry.”

“Many have hurt him in the past.” Thor watched the passers-by strolling on the sidewalk outside with dull eyes. “Too many.”

_Asgard._

_Odin. _

“While I stood and watched.”

_Thanos._

Thor could not bring himself to say his own name out loud as one of the perpetrators. Redemption for one as guilty as he should only be a life-long vocation of atonement, for he was lucky enough to be afforded another chance.

The Norns might not be so generous next time.

Thor turned his face sideways slightly to glance at Stephen out the corner of one eye. “And I’ll be damned should I fail to protect my Brother this time.”

Stephen fought to keep his temper in check. He had been on the receiving end of such looks once or twice throughout his short-lived career as a surgeon. Wrongfully or not, Thor was stepping over a line. “Are you accusing me of negligence?”

“Not in so many words,” Thor said coolly. “My inference on anyone’s performance of duty is mine alone.”

“You self-righteous, arrogant bastard,” Stephen hissed. “You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“I don’t,” Thor admitted readily, his eyes slates of steel blue, piercing and cold. “I only see.”

His grip around Stormbreaker tightened. “And what I see is my Brother, whom I had left safe and unharmed in _your_ care, come face to face with danger right at your doorstep and none of you was any the wiser. And none of you saw fit to inform me!”

“There is no hidden agenda here, Thor,” Stephen snapped. “We take care of our own. If the Order was responsible for what happened to Loki, it is our prerogative to identify, contain and neutralise the threat. This has nothing to do with you or your Avengers.”

Thor cocked his head, his tone gentle yet mocking. “This coming from the wizard who couldn’t resist jumping in our last battle, desperate for a piece of the action.”

“He went out onto the field because of you!” Stephen snarled. “He put himself and our child in danger because of you!”

“If you had read the mission report, you would know that Loki had gone against explicit medical orders, your orders, upon hearing that I had been compromised in battle.”

Regret and guilt softened the tone of Thor’s voice by a minute fraction; as far as Thor was concerned, it was an inherent flaw Loki had that no amount of pre- or post-battle debrief could drive out of him. “Loki is…selfless that way.”

Thor's chest swelled with determination.“I will take Loki back to Asgard.”

“That is not a decision for you to make,” Stephen said numbly.

“We have an understanding, Loki and I.”

“And you think I don’t?” Stephen growled. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I believe I have a far bigger duty to him and the child he carries more than you.”

“Alright, Wizard.” Thor propped Stormbreaker on the floor between his legs and leaned forward in feigned interest. “How do you propose protecting him and your unborn child from this unknown threat?”

“The Mirror Dimension,” Stephen said matter-of-factly. “A parallel dimension where we practice our most dangerous magic and fight our enemies. Nothing gets in, or out.”

“You would have my Brother locked up in another dimension, alone and with child, until you see fit to release him?”

“Until we have eliminated the threat, there is no hold as secure and safe as the Mirror Dimension. I will guard it, and by extension, him and our unborn child, with my life.”

“A prison by any other name is still a prison and will not and will never again be a place for Loki. Not in my lifetime and I can live for a very, very long time, Master Strange.”

Stephen stiffened and his protest died before given voice as Thor leveled him with a glare so fierce, so indignant –

“The onus is on _us _to fight for him and protect him, not latch onto the first easy way out without a care for his holistic wellness.”

Suddenly Stormbreaker was but an arm’s length away from Stephen’s chest. “I care not that you have the most secure magic dungeon in the universe and that you hold the key in your hand.”

“Keys can be lost. As for hands,” Thor looked coolly at the human sorcerer’s pitiful, scarred ones. “Well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those still reading this, thanks and sorry for the wait. I know I don't usually go this long without updating.


	12. Put Your Head on My Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The One Where Stephen is Clueless, and Loki is just...Cute.
> 
> (This chapter takes place after Thor & Co. return to Asgard, and Stephen and Loki had their first real fight and their first real [kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667962/chapters/42576176#workskin))

_New Asgard_

“Oh sweet Norns,” Loki gasped as he collapsed onto his back on the bed. “Thought that was never going to end.”

Five hours of standing in ceremony should have been nothing.

Well. It used to be nothing.

Only pride and sheer will had kept him upright throughout the entire elaborate procession; with the return of both the King and the Prince of Asgard, it seemed as though the whole of Asgard had turned out to pay their respects

(and to ogle at the Prince’s baby bump while they were at it)

for gossip spread like wildfire here, just like anywhere else.

If Stephen had been there, instead of spending the day busying himself at the Arboretum tending to cultivars and sprouting spells and whatnot, he too would not have been spared the parade of people excited for the first look at Prince Loki’s latest inamorato, the Great Sorcerer Supreme, said to be the most powerful wizard on Earth.

_What a perfect match_, they say.

_A handsome fellow_, they say.

_Handsomer than the last one._

_Which one?_

_You know the one with the bad leg, and the cane?_

_Oh, you mean the one Prince Loki left in that dreary Midgardian town called Londo-_

Loki sorted through the voices, the memories, the faces.

One stood out in his mind’s eye. Curly brown hair, kind brown eyes.

Loki opened his eyes and the face disappeared.

Long-dead now. All of them.

Loki concentrated on losing his armour and his boots, leaving only his underclothing. Even that simple act of magic was draining, and he yawned.

Gently unrolling the pressure stockings, Stephen winced in sympathy at the sight of red welts of compression marks winding around the circumference of Loki’s painfully swollen calves. “Couldn’t you have just listened to your advisers and sat down?”

“And have the people call me weak?” Loki cupped a hand over his eyes tiredly.

Stephen sighed, “You are not weak, Loki. You are pregnant.”

“Gee, I hadn’t noticed,” Loki muttered, clasping his hands to his stomach as he arched his back, resulting in a resounding crack that had both Loki and Stephen cursing out loud. “Gosh, even my back’s fucked.”

“I thought Tony’s modified your armour for you? Made it lighter or something?”

Loki shook his head, “Only my battle armour.” He grimaced, “My ceremonial armour’s double the weight.”

Stephen stared. “Do you have a different one for every occasion?”

“You should see the one for my wedding,” Loki said dryly. Cracking his eyes open, he gave Stephen a pitying look. “Not everyone’s a one-costumed show like you. No offense, Levi.”

The Cloak gave the equivalent of a placating pat on Stephen’s back at the jibe as he bristled, “I’ll race you across the Hudson. In full battle gear. You’ll be dead in the water in two minutes, tops.”

“Gladly,” Loki said coolly. “Once I’ve had something to eat. Haven’t eaten all day.”

All indignation abruptly lifted, Stephen frowned deeply in disapproval. “Why not?”

Loki made a face. “Everything here tastes so…bland.”

“What are you in the mood for?” Stephen asked, kneading the pressure points on the sole of one of Loki’s tortured feet. “Italian? Mexican?”

“Hmm…” Loki lifted the one foot not in Stephen’s grasp and ran it along the length of Stephen’s inner thigh. “Anything spicy.”

“Gosh,” Stephen imitated him, “I’m plain vanilla, I’m afraid.”

“That bakery on Amherst does a fantastic spiced vanilla chai cake,” Loki murmured, salivating just at the thought of it –

“Cake for dinner?” Now it was Stephen who made a face. “Let’s just go to the dining hall, get you a hot, proper meal.”

“Don’t wanna move, I’m too comfortable.” Loki squirmed in discomfort. “Correction. Too uncomfortable.”

“You know…” Stephen dropped Loki’s foot and climbed onto the bed, “I know a position or two that might help with the back pain.”

“Yeah?” Loki whispered huskily, looking up as Stephen loomed over him.

“Yeah.” Stephen braced his hands under the curvature of Loki’s back and lifted Loki bodily, just enough so Stephen could slip in a rolled-up towel conjured out of thin air, resulting in a fixed arch that would more or less support Loki’s aching back. “I’m the spine guy, remember?”

He slipped his hand into Loki’s undershirt and rubbed Loki’s taut belly. “You shouldn’t be skipping meals, Loki, you know that.”

“I know.” Loki swallowed hard. The feel of Stephen’s warm hand was dangerously stirring something in his loins. “I’m sorry.”

When Stephen’s fingers brushed against a particularly sensitive zone below his navel, he bucked his hips upward involuntarily, violently –

Stephen stopped undulating against him, and abruptly pushed off of Loki, who in turn, mewled in protest at the sudden disappearance of the comforting weight and warmth only Stephen could provide.

“I don’t understand.” Stephen sounded and looked very confused.

“Should I have not…stopped?” For that was certainly lust he was seeing in Loki’s eyes; it could only be a mirror-image of what Loki must be seeing in his.

Loki bit his lower lip uncertainly.

“Come on, Loki, you gotta give me something here.”

Loki made to sit up slowly.

“You know those pesky stomach cramps I once mentioned to you?”

Stephen’s look of flustered impatience quickly turned into one of alarm. He sat down once more on the bed next to Loki. “I thought they went away?”

“They did,” Loki said haltingly. “What I didn’t tell you was…how. Or to be exact, what caused them in the first place.”

“Okay,” Stephen said slowly. Then, with an encouraging, albeit still wary nod, “You’re doing good so far.”

Loki still looked mighty embarrassed.

“Well, I ah...” Loki cleared his throat. “I realised that I would get them whenever I…after every time I uhm…” He threw a pleading look Stephen’s way, “You know.”

Stephen returned it with an equally pleading, perplexed look of his own, “Loki…I really don’t.”

Loki tried again, more articulately this time. “That intensely pleasurable feeling that you get? The uncontrolled paroxysms of titillating…peaks that come after adequately satisfying stimulation?” Loki’s eyes involuntarily dropped, “Down there.”

Stephen’s lips parted as the information began trickling in and starting its perilous journey towards making some semblance of sense. “You mean…when you…”

He could not bring himself to say it out loud. _“Climaxed?”_

Loki nodded unhappily.

But they never –

They had only ever done it that one time.

Stephen did not own Loki, Loki could sleep with whoever he wanted, never mind the fact that he was carrying a baby. Stephen’s baby.

So…what was this excruciating pain in his chest all about then?

“Sex during pregnancy is usually safe,” Stephen mumbled as he fought for composure, “An hour or two of cramping isn't unusual because orgasms can cause uterine contractions.” His face darkened as he lost, like he knew he would. “So can the prostaglandins in semen.”

Loki frowned. “Strange, what are you talking about?”

“You should have called me when you had the pains,” Stephen said flatly. “I could have told you to put your feet up and drink a few glasses of water. The cramping would usually settle then.”

“Stephen, you look upset.”

“I’m not.”

“Why are you upset?”

“I am not. Upset.” Stephen forced the words through gritted teeth.

“Yes, you are!” Loki’s voice started to rise. “If you really want it, then let’s just do it!”

“I will not stand here another minute pretending I am not hurt by this insult.”

“Oh, believe me, if I wanted to insult you, you would know,” Loki snapped.

He shoved himself off the bed and wrapped his robes tighter around himself, ignoring the waterbrash in his mouth at the sudden assault of light-headedness. “Congratulations. You have officially ruined the moment.”

“Where do you get off pinning this on me?” Stephen demanded. “You were the one who slept with somebody else!”

Loki’s hands stilled in the midst of tying an angry knot at his waist. His face drained of whatever colour that was left. “What?”

Stephen met Loki’s flabbergasted gaze, his eyes furious and full of hurt.

“Is this one of those…delicate situations you Midgardians and more recently, Thor, would refer to as a misunderstanding?” Loki asked carefully.

Stephen’s voice was hard. “That depends. What am I not understanding?”

“No, no.” Loki walked slowly over to him. “I’ll tell you what I think you understand and you tell me if I’m wrong.”

Stephen gave a stubborn shrug. “Fine.”

What was he missing? Loki’s calculating eyes studied Stephen’s body language from head to toe –

What a thrilling mystery. Too bad it was too easy to solve.

“There was no one else, Stephen,” Loki said coolly.

Stephen wavered, not daring to give in. He could have heard wrongly. “What?”

“There was no one else,” Loki repeated calmly.

“But your stomach pains – you just said – ” Stephen’s voice trailed.

“I did.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh, Strange.” Loki began to laugh. “Is it no longer the norm for one to pleasure oneself at times on Midgard?”

Time stood still.

The proverbial pin, and with it the ball, dropped.

Oh.” Stephen stared in wonder at Loki’s face, pinched and tight only moments ago, now creased with laugh lines Stephen did not think he had ever seen before. _“Oh.”_

“ ‘You need to open up, Loki. Tell people how you feel, Loki’,” Loki mimicked many of the nameless, useless know-it-alls he had met throughout his life, “And without fail, this always happens!”

He dropped onto his chaise longue with a huff. “I start off with the purest of intentions and still I am met with suspicion and baseless accusations.”

Stephen was still standing stock-still in the middle of the room, his face frozen in an expression caught somewhere between wonder and guarded disbelief.

“This is so unlike you, Doctor,” Loki teased. “So taken aback. So _flustered_.”

“W-Well,” Stephen almost stammered. “You should have said.”

“I did,” Loki said coolly. “Right at the start.”

“When?” Stephen demanded.

“When I came to see you about my back.”

Stephen blinked as he thought hard back to that moment.

When realisation finally dawned on him that he had once again fallen into one of Loki’s traps of cryptic lyricism, all tension drained out of him like water and his heart instantly lifted. “Strange way of thinking about me, Odinson.”

“Are you upset?” Loki repeated his question quietly, this time nuanced differently with a yearning uncertainty that sent an irresistible urge surging through Stephen’s body.

“No. I’m not.” The temptation too great to bear, Stephen marched across the room and hauled Loki around the waist to his feet; Stephen could feel the exact moment Loki ceased to breathe as their chests surged together,

“I am flattered.” Stephen’s eyes danced in amusement. “Extremely flattered.”

“Stop it,” Loki whispered. “This is humiliating.”

“No, don’t.” Stephen gave him a little shake. “Don’t close your eyes.”

Reluctantly, Loki obeyed.

“Has anyone ever told you how cute you are?”

“Cute,” Loki repeated flatly.

“Yes, cute.”

“Back in my day cute wasn’t exactly a compliment.”

“Back in mine, it was.” Stephen shrugged. “Still is. I think.”

Loki hummed in dissatisfaction. “I shall let it slide this one time.”

“I’m sorry,” Stephen breathed out a sigh, shaky with sheer relief. “For thinking that you’d – you know.” 

Loki lifted a quizzical eyebrow. Amazing how just the sight of it was making Stephen want to undress him right then and there – it was then Stephen really understood, just why the thought of somebody else holding Loki, let alone being with Loki in that way, was twisting his stomach into tight, nauseating knots.

“I overreacted.”

Loki’s green eyes roamed his face, searching for something that was not immediately apparent. “What does this mean, Strange?”

Stephen answered Loki’s question with a question, for sometimes there was simply no alternative, “Are we seeing each other, Loki?”

“What does seeing each other mean?” Loki asked carefully. “In this day and age?”

“It means being exclusive,” Stephen said quietly. “Only me.”

He reached up to tease an errant curl out of Loki’s eye. “Only you.”

Loki’s forehead wrinkled.

"Forever?" His breaths began to quicken. “_My_ forever?”

For such an odd question, Stephen may be the only person in the universe who could answer it with absolute certainty.

He shook his head kindly. “No. Just mine.”

Loki’s eyes softened enough that Stephen could see the fear in them recede, little by little. Was it fear that his forever was too long? Too short? Either way, Stephen did not think he wanted to know…not really.

Just as long as Loki agreed to be his, for now.

“So, uh…what do you say?”

“Oh, why not.” Loki’s gaze dropped to the general vicinity of Stephen’s lips. “Just until a better kisser comes along.”

“Yeah?” Stephen obliged, and kissed him softly. “Practice makes perfect, I’m told.”

“I’m also told that repetition...” He sought Loki’s lips again, “ – is key.”

Loki closed his eyes and savoured the kisses; for something that was not quite forbidden anymore, they tasted just as sweet. He sensed Stephen’s magic swirl around him, but when Loki opened his eyes again, he was surprised to find himself standing at the door, instead of the bed where he had assumed Stephen would take them –

“Stephen?”

“I have to go,” Stephen said hurriedly.

“Why?” Loki almost whined.

Stephen’s eyes shone with regret, “I don’t think I’d be able to hold myself back.”

Loki reached out and tugged on Stephen’s sleeve. “What’s stopping you? It’s safe, you said so yourself – ”

“It is.” Stephen covered Loki’s hand with his own. “But for you to hesitate in the first place…the pain must be awful.”

“I can handle it,” Loki said stubbornly. “Come back inside – ”

Stephen lunged to smother Loki’s plea in the bud with a deep, hard kiss.

_“No, Loki. If the cost of pleasure is you in pain, that brings me no pleasure. Not at all.”_

_“You would rather desert me all…squirrelly?”_

_“Better a squirrel than a dying badger.”_

_“What does that even mean?”_ Loki laughed silently in their heads.

“It means I need to take a cold shower,” Stephen said out loud. “Now.”

Loki gasped in mock horror. “Oh dear. Better hurry along then.”

Stephen turned on his heels for he did not think he could stand there for a second longer, when a hand shot out to grab the hem of The Cloak, who in turn obliged by pushing her Master in close for one last kiss.

“Think of me fondly, Doctor.”

“I’d say the same, but knowing you…” Stephen touched the side of Loki’s stomach gently. “Please don’t.”

“Alright, alright.” Loki gave a resigned sigh, “You’re no fun.”

“You have enough fun for both of us, I think,” Stephen countered with a playful smile. “Too much, even.”

He leaned in for the absolute last, lingering kiss. _“But do think of me a little.”_

Loki parted his lips to reciprocate, _“Duly noted, Doctor.”_


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains spoilers from Loki: Where Mischief Lies, the novel by Mackenzi Lee.

_Sanctum Sanctorum, New York_

“The scriptures were lost during the attack on the Sanctums by Kaecilius and his Zealots back in 2016…for some reason some of them were never recovered, even after you restored everything to order with the Eye of Agamotto.”

“Are you saying they were stolen?”

“My thoughts at the time were that they were either irrevocably destroyed in the chaos, or that one of the Guardians had removed them to a place of safety, but neglected to put them back in any of our archives,” Wong said irritably.

“Not easy being the Librarian, huh,” Stephen said in sympathy.

“That’s the least of our worries, Strange.” Wong looked mighty worried. “No mortal sorcerer could have conjured the Raiju on his own without divine help. This person had the power and the know-how to summon Bishamonten, one of the three great Gods of Mount Kurama in Kyoto.”

“Shouldn’t we have detected a surge of mystical energy in the North-Eastern Hemisphere if that were true? Surely the Hong Kong Sanctum would have alerted us if someone had awakened a mythical beast of such prowess in Japan,” Stephen argued.

“To summon a beast like the Raiju, it has to be done under a controlled environment, or the backlash in the real world would be catastrophic, you know, earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions,” Wong explained.

“In the old days the shamans would have performed the rituals under the protection of the Four Heavenly Guardian Kings, the deities who controlled the elements, the air, earth, fire and water in all four directions.”

“This would all be in the scriptures,” Wong added helpfully at the sight of the stunned expression on Stephen’s face. “With the barrier in place, in theory, the summoning could have escaped Hong Kong’s attention.”

“Which brings me to the next mystery. The Raiju could only be summoned at its place of origin, where the _kotodama_ or the mystical power of the conjuror’s words, is strong.”

Wong paused as he pondered. “Once resurrected, the beast would have to be transported from Kyoto to Manhattan one way or another.”

“By means of a portal,” Stephen realised with a sinking heart. “But magic of such scale in the heart of New York, _we_ should have picked it up!”

He gave Wong an accusing look, “What is wrong with our radars? Did you forget to call the maintenance guy again?”

Wong rolled his eyes.

“There is nothing wrong with our radar! SHIELD received an anonymous tip that day that a creature had been sighted in Central Park. I think they were thinking Monster(!) instead of…you know, ‘Magic Beasts’,” Wong’s air quotes looked just as sardonic as his speaking voice.

“You know that once they mobilise the Avengers nowadays, any magical activity we pick up, it’s likely to be Loki.” Wong looked slightly guilty. “Good thing I was watching the news.”

“So the Raiju was a trap.” Stephen’s heart began to pound. “For Loki.”

“Maybe. Whoever did it could have targeted Thor to lure Loki out. But I have a suspicion it was a widely cast trap for any magic-wielder that the perpetrator considers ‘unauthorised’ to use magic.”

“A purist? A purist fanatic?”

“Or a traitor. Someone who sells our secrets to crazy-ass vigilantes with a thing against magic.” Wong hesitated. “Or a grudge.”

“I haven’t pissed off anybody recently,” Stephen muttered. “Thor, maybe. And he’s as magic as a can of sardines.”

Wong snickered. “Trouble with the in-laws, huh.”

“Ha-ha. Very funny.”

“Is that what the cake’s for?” Wong asked sadistically. “Buying your way into his stomach to win his heart, and in the end, his Brother?”

Stephen threw him a disgusted look. “It would have been easier for me if Loki and Thor still didn’t get along. Every time he comes over, he breaks something.”

“I don’t know why you tolerate him, with his high-and-mighty airs and all that swagger. And the way he speaks to you?” Wong shook his head in disgust. “If I were you, I would have kicked his ass a long time ago.”

Stephen wrinkled his nose. “Are we still talking about Thor?”

Wong only laughed.

“He’s only looking out for Loki. Can’t really fault him.” Stephen’s half-smile did not quite reach his eyes. “I know exactly where he’s coming from.”

“Yeah…” Wong too, deflated visibly. Knowing he had to steer the subject matter away quickly, he rapped his knuckles on the table loudly. “SO.”

After a quick ruffling through the reams of paper behind him, he produced a stack of old documents, dusty and yellowed at the edges with age. “Found these. In the Ancient One’s personal collection.”

At Stephen’s quizzical look, he elaborated, “You said to look for anything to do with the Jotunn race? I wasn’t sure if we had much, but the Ancient One surprisingly had quite a lot. Several volumes actually. She might have even written some of them.”

“Huh.” Stephen could not believe his luck.

“And she also wrote…” Wong disappeared out of sight as he rummaged under the table, appearing again with a thick, hand-bound journal. “This.”

“What’s that?”

“Take a guess.”

Stephen stared at Wong. He would recognise the runes stitched into the leather front cover anywhere. “I’ll be damned.”

________________________________________

_New Asgard_

The knock on the door came just as soon as Loki had drifted off, and had he still not kept some of his senses somewhere between sleep and awake, he would have destroyed the door (and whoever was behind it) with a touch of his mind.

“I’m not hungry!” he said irritably. It must have been someone sent from the kitchen, by someone who noticed his absence at dinner or supper or whatever meal was being served at the moment. Loki knew not the hour, only that it was better spent on sleeping. He felt like he had run a marathon.

The knock came again, a steady staccato against the blood boiling in Loki’s ears.

“Just leave it outside,” he gritted through his teeth. “I’ll eat it later!”

“You sure?” A voice finally spoke, muffled behind three inches of solid wood. “In this heat? The frosting’s surely going to melt.”

It took all Loki had not to fly to the door and tear it off its hinges in his excitement; never one to lose his composure, when he finally opened the door, he made sure nothing on his face would give him away.

Loki looked Stephen up and down.

“You don’t look particularly clean for the distance you’ve travelled for that shower,” he commented coolly.

Stephen only gave him a rare, lopsided grin.

“But you smell _divine_ – ” Loki could not take it anymore, his clamouring hands reaching for the pink and white cakebox in the crook of Stephen’s arm. “Give me!”

A few seconds later, Loki was comfortably ensconced in his throne armchair by the large window, cradling a plate piled high with cake, sighing happily away.

Stephen shook his head as he collected the empty cardboard box Loki had discarded onto the floor. “If I hadn’t come back you would have just gone straight to bed, wouldn’t you.”

“You always ask questions you already know the answer to, don’t you.”

Stephen planted himself in the only other chair in the room and starting flipping through the first of his homework, the journal.

As he began to read the first of the Ancient One’s elegant cursive, a part of him wondered if it would be better if he perused the documents in his own time without Loki looking over his shoulder, but his burning curiousity got the better of him.

“Whatcha reading?” Loki mumbled through a mouthful of spiced cinnamon sponge and vanilla chai buttercream.

“Nothing interesting enough to stop you eating, my dear,” Stephen said distractedly.

“Hmm.” Loki narrowed his eyes but continued eating without speaking for the next few minutes.

“So tell me then. Which scholar of yours wrote that book of lies this time? From which century?” Loki asked casually.

At Stephen’s semi-guilty look, Loki rolled his eyes. “Surely I'd recognise my own name written in Old Norse.”

“I’m just doing some research in what little time I can spare. We’re still trying to work out who attacked you and why,” Stephen said, hoping to sound as convincing to Loki as he did in his own head. “Did you know the Ancient One?”

“The Sorcerer Supreme before you? Of course,” Loki said slowly, averting his eyes and offering nothing by way of explanation. After a pause, “Why do you ask?”

“She seemed to have intimate knowledge of you.”

“What do you mean?” Loki asked, picking up his fork once more with hands that seemed to shake ever so slightly.

“She documented your visits to Midgard with such detail it’s as if she was there – here. At the time, with you,” Stephen said in wonder. Was half of what he was reading even true?

“Wouldn’t surprise me one bit. You’re spies, all you lot,” Loki mumbled. His face felt hot.

“You were last sighted on Earth in 1854 aboard the Necropolis Train, on its way transporting the dead from the city of London to Brookwood Cemetery in Surrey."

Stephen looked at Loki with unreadable eyes. "You and a sorceress by the name of Amora.”

Loki’s fork dropped onto the floor with a clang.

Stephen’s gaze studied the fallen cutlery for a few seconds before travelling upward slowly to meet Loki’s suddenly terrified eyes.

“No, it wasn’t Amora.”

Stephen’s gut feeling was telling him Loki’s fear was not of Amora, but of something else, something he could not quite put his finger on…yet. He debated the merits of pursuing the line of questioning when Loki was clearly becoming agitated, but Stephen had been careful with his words so far –

“Are you sure? She had to know both you and Thor, having been exiled from Asgard just decades before…if she’s still alive, it could very well be her – ”

“It wasn’t Amora,” Loki said sharply, his voice cracking like a whip. “It wasn’t her.”

At Stephen’s look of alarm, Loki softened his tone, but not the bite in his words. “Amora would not have hidden behind such a guise. She would have come straight for my throat and left my corpse on your doorstep because that’s how she is.”

“Just like she killed your Mrs. Sharp?”

“What?”

“The leader of the SHARP Society, the one who invited you to London to investigate those mysterious deaths – ”

“I know who she was,” Loki said, his voice hollow with reawakened grief, his face as white as a ghost. “I killed her.”

“No, you did not,” Stephen said firmly. “She was murdered by Amora when she stumbled upon her secret – ”

“I as good as did,” Loki whispered.

His stomach roiled dangerously as the images and the _stench _came rushing back to him, as vivid and as sharp as the day it happened.

He remembered it all now, the blood spurting from the poor woman’s near-severed neck, blood pooling at Amora’s feet as Mrs. S. slumped to the ground, well and truly dead.

His breaths were coming out in small, short gasps. “How could your Ancient One have known all that?”

“Eyewitness account.” Stephen scanned the copy of the signed affidavit pasted in between two blank pages. “By one Mister Theo Bell.”

Loki’s stomach flipped. Near two centuries without hearing that name, and to hear it spoken out of Stephen’s mouth,

“Who?” he asked dimly, feeling very ill all of a sudden.

“Mrs. Sharp’s assistant. He took over after she died, never stopped looking for you or Amora until his death in the year 190 – Loki?”

Loki had bolted to the bathroom with a speed Stephen never thought someone so advanced in his pregnancy could still be capable of, and the violent retching sounds reached Stephen even before he could clumsily put aside the journal and clamber out of his seat, _Shit_.

The sweet smell of dairy mixed with stomach acid quickly filled the bathroom as Loki heaved and heaved, bringing up everything he had eaten in the last few hours.

“Shit, Loki...” Stephen cursed himself, dropping to one knee next to the toilet. “I didn’t mean to make you sick. I’m sorry.”

Loki shook his head and tried to speak, but another violent wave of nausea overpowered him and he retched painfully, bringing up nothing but bile now that his stomach was completely empty.

_“Stephen…”_

_“I’m here.” _Stephen’s fingers gathered his hair and gently pulled it away from his face.

_“I’m here.”_

_________________________________

Loki waded through layers upon layers of memories masquerading as dreams, and dreams pretending to be memories; each layer always ended the same: with a chaste, light kiss. He wished it had been deeper.

The kiss, not the dream.

Here he was hoping Dream Theo could have done one better and kissed him harder.

_There’s always a choice._

Loki felt a smile form in his sleep, and wondered if his face in the waking world was wearing one too.

Never been any for me, Theo. It’s written in the stars.

_There’s always a choice, Loki. _

Yes. To sleep, or to wake.

_No, not only that_, Theo said teasingly, all ruddy cheeks and twinkling eyes.

Theo, or Stephen.

_Well, that one’s easy_, Theo snorted. _I’m dea –_

Loki awakened with a start.

His eyes darted around the sun-brightened room and fell onto a figure sitting a few feet away.

With the sun behind him, Loki could barely make out Stephen’s face. Only his anxious, stormy-grey eyes.

It was only when Loki cracked the smallest of smiles that the storm receded, little by little.

“Do you ever sleep?” Loki asked quietly.

“Since I met you? No,” Stephen teased, half-jesting, half-serious.

“Now _that’s_ a compliment.” Despite the instant glimmer of concern creasing the space between his eyes, Loki sounded secretly pleased.

Loki studied Stephen’s profile, furtively taking in the way the gentle sunlight hit the sharp contours of his face. For all his aesthetic perfection, the shadows under his human lover’s eyes were glaring.

“There’s plenty of space on the bed, you know. Thor had it custom-made for me to accommodate my…godlike physique.”

Stephen laughed, uneasily at first, but the atmosphere grew lighter for soon Loki was joining him in laughter too, though he had a suspicion Loki was only doing it to keep from crying.

He reached across the bed to grasp one of Loki’s outstretched hands. “I’m sure your habitus had everything to do with it.”

Loki accepted the unspoken apology by squeezing the shaking fingers gently in return.

“I didn’t wanna trigger another episode of vomiting,” Stephen’s voice had turned sombre, “For all I know, it could have been my body odour that set it off.”

It could not be further from the truth, but Loki remained silent.

“I’m cold,” he said simply.

Stephen visibly shrank in his seat in uncertainty; was Loki simply stating a fact? Should he turn the heat up? Was Loki asking for a hot cup of tea? Or was Loki asking for something more?

_You fucked up too many times already. _

_Don’t think_, he thought numbly.

Just _do_.

Without letting go of Loki’s hand, Stephen slowly climbed into the bed.

Loki shifted slightly to make room for Stephen’s arms as they sought to hold him around the waist.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen murmured into the back of Loki’s head.

Loki ignored it, for Stephen had already apologised enough times after all.

“So what else did you learn about me?” Loki asked lightly.

“I learnt that the period of gestation of an average Jotunn pregnancy is more or less similar to ours so…” Stephen cupped Loki’s neat bump, “I’m guessing another four or five months till we get to see our little champ?”

“Yay,” Loki said dryly. “Another five months of unpredictable bouts of vomiting. How wonderful.”

But Stephen could hear Loki smiling with his next, “What else?”

“I learnt that the Jotunns…” Stephen held Loki tighter, “When they are pregnant, they favour more heavily spiced food. Warms the blood. Sweet things too, but dairy not so much.”

“Then maybe we should have moved to India,” Loki murmured. “People here warm their blood with mead and cider, and I think I’m not supposed to drink…”

“Why move when we can just bring India to us?” Stephen said. “I’ve got most of the capsicum cultivars ready to be planted, you just have to choose the kind of peppers you want.”

“Okay,” Loki said softly.

He was quiet for a long time and Stephen feared Loki had gone back to sleep, when he suddenly spoke, in a voice cracked and thick with tears, “Sounds like a date.”

Stephen held Loki as Loki cried silently in his arms.

“It’s a date,” he whispered, kissing the back of Loki’s head over and over, his heart twisting with guilt, but this time Stephen knew with every fibre of his being that he would rather die than ask or bring up anything about Loki’s past without his permission ever again.

_“It’s a date.”_


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce imparts some sage advice, and Loki and Stephen finally say their goodbyes. A momentary distraction lets the enemy in.

“Doctor Strange.” Being cooped up in his laboratory had its perks; not many people knew of his existence, fewer still sought his company. Receiving the Sorcerer Supreme this early in the morning, understandably, was highly unusual. “To what do I owe this visit?”

“Just looking for a…” Stephen hesitated, “ – friendly face.”

Bruce studied the figure standing at the door through the safety of his spectacles.

“Guess I can be friendly,” he sighed, stepping away from the door to let the taller man in.

“What’s got you looking so worried?”

“I’m not worried,” Stephen said, a millisecond too quickly to be convincing.

“Uh-uh.” Despite knowing better, Bruce decided to accept the half-assed answer all the same. It took less effort than actually confronting the guy about it. “Okay.”

Stephen heaved a sigh. “It’s Loki.”

_Isn’t it always nowadays?_ Bruce waited patiently.

“I can’t get him to say yes to an ultrasound scan.”

Bruce planted himself back at his work station, snapped on a pair of gloves, and began arranging the vials containing what suspiciously looked like blood on the stainless steel, double-platform test tube rack.

“You don’t _get_ someone like Loki to do anything, Strange,” he said lightly.

“You got him to say yes to bloodletting,” Stephen said almost accusingly.

“That I did.” Bruce gave him a brilliant smile. “I’m Dr Bruce Banner, proud holder of seven PhDs.”

“If one of your PhDs could help me convince Loki, I promise I will bow down to your wisdom and never make fun of them anymore, intentionally or unintentionally.”

If Stephen had not sounded so earnest, Bruce would have kept his secret method what it was, a secret, for as long as he wanted.

But alas…Bruce Banner may be big and green, but he was as soft inside as a green tea mochi.

With a sigh, he spun around on his swivel tool. “You want to know my approach?”

Stephen nodded.

Bruce pressed a sequence of numbers on his centrifuge machine, and a few seconds later, it began to make a gentle hum as it began centrifuging Loki’s blood.

Once that was done, Bruce gave the empty swivel stool next to him a gentle kick, and it slid across the floor to bump into Stephen’s knee with a thud. “Tell me how _you_ would do it."

Stephen sat down, dejected. “The direct approach had always worked for me before.”

“When all your patients had been human and ignorant, you mean?” Bruce asked airily.

The unhappy look on Stephen’s face was all the answer he needed.

“There is no fixed formula, Strange,” Bruce decided to take pity on the poor man; it was not as though Bruce was telling him something he did not already know.

“Some soft skills is all you need, I think. And good timing. Which I’ve heard, yours is impeccable.”

At the sight of the look of instant disbelief on the Stephen’s face, Bruce shook his head in amusement.

“You need to read the air, Strange.” Bruce’s tone was kind. “Trust your own judgment.”

“I haven’t had much luck with it lately,” Stephen admitted sullenly. “My formula’s…flawed.”

“Then use a different one with Loki.”

Stephen stared at Bruce with dead eyes. “Easier said than done.”

Bruce was quiet for a few, long seconds. Just when Stephen thought that was the end of their short-lived conversation,

“Did I ever tell you about the time I went back in time to retrieve the Time Stone from your predecessor?”

“What?” A sudden numbness filled Stephen’s entire core.

“She said you were meant to be the best of them all.”

“Best of what?” Stephen breathed.

“Sorcerer Supreme,” Bruce said serenely. “She said you don’t make mistakes.”

Stephen must have made a sound, for Bruce was quick to amend, for better or for worse – “Only calculated ones.”

“I only managed to get the Time Stone from her because she believed in you. At a time when she hadn’t even met you.”

Stephen leaned forward on the table, clasping his gloved hands tightly in the visible effort to regain some semblance of control.

“You can’t possibly convince Loki, or anyone of anything, until you convince yourself.”

Bruce then wrapped things up with the best advice he could think of, given the lack of context and coffee. “Trust your instinct, Doctor. It _is_ our biggest asset.”

_____________________________________________

Stephen had held him until Loki slipped into a restless sleep once more, where a labyrinth of dreams awaited him as expected. The only consolation he had was the dreams had been more pleasant the closer they were to sunrise.

Upon opening his eyes again, Loki found himself alone. He had not minded so much, for the cold too was gone. Stephen must have taken it with him.

Now it was high noon, and Stephen had been quiet all morning. Loki had not minded that either; it was not like he himself was very talkative.

It was high noon, and Loki was hungry. It was one of those rare occasions that he felt compelled enough to look for sustenance, and companionable enough to want to eat with someone.

Who was he kidding. There was only one person in particular whose company he was seeking.

Since Stephen had been quiet since morning, Loki had turned it into a game, one the Grandmaster had been particularly fond of. If he did not know any better, he had a suspicion Stephen was playing it too.

Loki first looked for him in the dining halls where he could sometimes find Stephen having a coffee and a quick chat with the handful of people he had made friends with. Sometimes it was Thor, a lot of the times Bruce Banner, the earliest riser of the lot.

No luck there.

The Arboretum too was deserted, save for Einar, his own valet de chambre, whose presence was suspect simply for the reason that he had no reason to be there.

Most peculiarly, Einar was in the gardens setting a _table_ of all things when Loki interrupted him to ask after the Sorcerer Supreme.

“You have just missed him, Your Highness,” Einar had stammered. He was definitely hiding something behind his back. A bottle of wine? And was that freshly baked bread Loki could smell in the air?

Something was going on.

Now Loki found himself standing in front of Stephen’s bedchamber.

His hearing picked up on the distant sound of running water and he wavered at the door for a few precious seconds, not knowing if he should enter or wait.

He should do neither, of course. He was not even supposed to be there. What was he thinking, knocking on Stephen’s door unsolicited like this?

Abruptly Loki turned on his heels in a hurry to leave, when a voice hollered from inside.

“Door’s open!”

On its own volition, the door unlocked itself and swung open without a sound.

Loki took a hesitant step inside.

It was the first time Loki had ever been in the guest room Stephen had been given. While it was in the same royal complex as his own apartment, it was still a distance away – Loki welcomed the walk after the bad night he had, for it cleared his head somewhat.

It was spacious, decorated in that tasteful but painfully minimalist style that was all the rage in Midgard nowadays. The abundant black was a nice touch, but there was too much white at the same time for Loki’s liking.

The only bursts of colour were the red of the Cloak flapping about by the window, the blue of Stephen’s tunic and the vibrant yellow of Stephen’s gloves draped neatly over the back of the reading chair.

A lone object sat on the birchwood dressing table, glinting off the sunlight streaming through the floor-length French windows.

Loki picked it up.

He had seen Stephen wear it on numerous occasions, of course…even commented on it once or twice. The watch had once been beautiful, again in that minimalist fashion modern Midgardians seemed to favour, but how was its shattered face not an eyesore, against the rest of Stephen’s immaculate dressing?

Why not have it repaired?

Some things are better left broken than restored, Stephen had said.

Yeah?

It would cost too much, Stephen then said.

Loki never touched on the subject further. Stephen looked too sad.

When Stephen looked sad, he looked older.

_Delicate_.

Loki was about to place the watch back on the dressing table when the pads of his fingers brushed against something on the back of it.

He turned the watch around.

_Time will tell how much I love you._

_Christine._

Loki’s thumb brushed involuntarily against the script. It did not fade.

Engraved into the caseback itself, the inscription was sure to last a lifetime, perhaps even longer.

Suddenly the palatial chamber did not feel all that spacious anymore. There was no room for him.

Loki slammed the timepiece back onto the dressing table, and did the one thing he told himself to never do, but never failed to time and time again.

He fled.

____________________________________________

Assaulted by palpitations ever since he stepped out of the shower to an empty room and a disturbed watch, Stephen had expected his nerves to calm upon finally locating Loki, not expecting in the least for it to have the complete opposite effect; if anything, his heart was racing even faster now.

Loki was standing on the very edge of the precipice.

“I forget that I cannot run very far.”

“Would you step back from the ledge?” Stephen swallowed hard. “Please?”

What could he possibly say that would not make things worse than they already were?

_It’s just a watch, Loki. _

He imagined Loki would respond, as was just of him to. _And Christine?_

_Just someone I used to know_, Stephen would then lie.

“You and I, we have lived different lives before, Loki.”

To Stephen’s dismay, Loki ignored him completely.

“What you saw…that was the me.” He inhaled deeply, “Before you.”

“Stories,” Loki said absently. “That’s all they are.”

Stephen took a step closer toward the edge of the cliff, and as he came up alongside, he saw what Loki was holding astride his legs.

Dazzled, Stephen could not tear his eyes away from the elegant, black and brown-striped walking cane with its handle a snakehead of carved ivory, its eyes a pair of brilliant-cut green sapphires. It was magnificent.

But it was not Loki’s. Of that Stephen was certain.

“Theo had been the first to look beyond the tales and the lies.”

_Theo?_

With an elegant turn of his wrist, Loki held the cane abreast, grasping it with both hands and holding it out over the open sea.

“He caught a glimpse of the real me, and didn’t run away.” Loki glanced out the corner of his eye to look at the patch of grass Stephen was standing on. “You are similar to him in that respect.”

Loki must have caught the line of Stephen’s gaze, and his thumb came to an abrupt stop over the brass collar of the object in his hand, its patina a glaring contrast to the gleaming new gold of Loki’s vambrace.

“I cannot begrudge you should you have in your possession a token from your past, Stephen, when I have kept something in mine for far longer than you have been alive.”

“Loki…”

“Goodbye,” Loki whispered.

“Loki!” Stephen held out a hand in a right panic, but before he could stop him, Loki hurled the walking stick into the air –

Loki reeled backward from the momentum, nearly stumbling over a tuft of grass, when Stephen’s outstretched hand caught him around the elbow, righting him again.

Against the howling wind, they heard no sound of the cane hitting either the water or the rocks below.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Don’t worry, Stephen,” Loki said, the faraway gaze in his eyes as hollow as his voice. “I will not ask you to do the same.”

Stephen remained silent, but Loki had spent a few centuries too many in the comfort of his own company to expect a reciprocal gesture.

“I have kept it for more than a hundred years.”

Loki sounded surprised with himself; be it his impulsive act of condemning the precious relic to the bottom of the Norwegian Sea or his hoarding tendencies, he knew not which surprised him more. “Had I not met you, I would have kept it for a hundred more.”

“That was an antique African snakewood,” Stephen’s stunned voice carried in the wind. “Most likely concealing a secret blade judging from the width of the shaft.”

“Yes,” Loki agreed. He was the one who commissioned it after all, all those years ago.

Loki suspected Theo had known all along who it was from. He was brilliant at connecting the dots like that.

_I love mysteries, _Theo once said_._

“Should have at least kept the handle. It’s illegal to harvest ivory nowadays.”

Now that had Loki snapping out of his reverie.

He turned around slowly to face this most peculiar man about whom by some peculiar twist of fate had Loki spending most of his waking time (and sleeping too, for that matter) thinking.

“Do you really love money that much, Strange?”

Not one to miss a beat, “You come a close second,” Stephen said coolly, but his eyes were burning, and seemed to be asking one thing in return

_Where do** I** stand? _

“So do you.” Loki shrugged. “After cake.”

A husky laughter. “I can live with that.”

And suddenly Stephen was standing right next to him, and before Loki knew what was happening, he found himself lifted off the ground and pulled back a few steps away from the edge.

“You’re too close.”

Stephen’s breath was warm against the skin of his cold cheek, and Loki’s breaths quickened into small, panicky gasps. “As are you.”

“Just – ” Stephen’s forehead was equally warm as the rest of him. “Stay where I can see you.”

Their noses met and Loki was dangerously losing. “Does seeing you mean I can kiss you whenever I want?”

“Do you want to?” Came Stephen’s quiet reply, and with it, an agonising pain in Loki’s chest.

“I need to,” he whispered his confession, for his heart was dangerously on the verge of breaking, and Stephen was the only thing holding the pieces together.

_Please_.

The moment their lips met, it occurred to Loki that had he been the one to initiate the kiss, he would have once more resorted to having to save himself, as he had had to do his whole life.

_That’s not true, _Theo’s smiling face chastised gently. _If I remember correctly, I was the one who kissed you first._

Loki’s eyes burned hot, stinging with tears. He squeezed them tight as he desperately leaned into Stephen’s kiss. _Thank you._

_“Anything for you, Loki. You know that.” _Theo’s sad, sad smile was reminiscent of the one he had given Loki, on the day Loki left him on –

“Loki?” He gasped against the salt on his tongue, biting and sharp, and judging from the way Stephen pulled back, a look of deep concern on his face...Stephen must have tasted it too.

Loki hastily wiped the heel of his hand against his traitorous eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Stephen fought to keep the panic from showing in his voice; it was bad enough it was showing in the way he gripped the side of Loki’s face, the one that was not as wet with tears Loki must have not realised he was crying before it was too late.

“Did you love this Theo that much?” Stephen heard himself ask. It sounded distant, his voice, almost unlike his own.

“I don’t – “ _remember_, Loki almost said, when he caught himself in yet another lie. “I must have.”

_I just did not know it._

“And that is fine,” Stephen soothed. “It’s absolutely fine with me, Loki.”

_Is it? _For the second time, Loki found himself searching Stephen’s face for any tell-tale sign that Stephen was only telling him what Loki wanted to hear.

“You couldn’t have known you were going to meet me.” A boyish smile softened Stephen’s rigid, handsome features. “And I know you didn’t do it for me.”

Stephen reached up to thumb the small frown away from Loki’s tight forehead. “You did it for _you_.”

How breath-taking and utterly terrifying it was to have a mere mortal, a man of flesh of blood, see past the layers of paint and glamour and right through him.

Stephen was right, as always.

The cane was, at most, a memento. A bittersweet souvenir of a love long past its time, a love Loki knew deep down in his black, empty heart he had to let go.

Theo was always going to live in his memories.

But it’s Stephen’s time now.

“Thank you.”

Now _that_ was too vague, even for someone of Stephen’s omniscience. “What for?”

Loki decided that telling the truth could not hurt him more than withholding it already did. “For happening to me.”

Stephen’s face turned red as an overwhelming wave of indescribable emotion surged in his chest.

“Oh no, no, Odinson.” He seized Loki’s waist, pulling it to his chest roughly. “You happened to _me.”_

Loki let out a wet laughter, “I was rather afraid of this actually.”

Ignoring his pounding heart, Stephen braced himself. “What?”

“Weeping.” Once more, Loki pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Ever since I met you that is all I have been doing, I feel.”

Stephen’s stomach flipped lazily. For all his years dealing with the tears of strangers, telling the happy ones from the sad ones was still his number-one weakness. Somehow getting it wrong this time may not be quite as forgivable.

“Are you…” he hesitated, licking his lips. “I did not mean to make you sad.”

“Oh, no, no, Strange,” Loki mimicked, still half-laughing, half-crying. “I’m not. Trust me.”

“Everyone who’s ever met you told me not to,” Stephen said dryly, but he too, was smiling teasingly for the relief he felt was overwhelming; Loki’s eyes were no longer red as his hands fell away in feigned indignation, but still Stephen could not resist –

“Must be the hormones.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Oh, please.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Stephen said lightly. “Maybe you’re just one of those…nonconformists who’re only ever happy when it rains.”

Loki stared at Stephen, his eyes suddenly wide with an unknown fear.

After an eternity, he whispered, “Is this what happy feels like?”

“I can’t make it rain like your Brother has done for you all these years,” Stephen said quietly. “But happy is what I want you to feel all the time.”

“How do you intend to do that?” Loki asked, more out of courtesy than curiosity, for he too, had this crazy, indescribable urge to make Stephen Strange happy, come rain or shine, and it was easier to steal someone else’s idea than come up with his own when it came to matters of the heart.

_Read the air_.

Keeping his gaze locked on Loki, Stephen unfastened his wristwatch with a surprisingly steady hand. He broke eye contact for a fraction of a second to look at the inscription on the back one last time.

_Goodbye, Christine._

With a sleight of the hand, Stephen Strange made his last prized possession from his past life disappear, just as Loki had done with his.

Loki could very well hide the tremble in his voice given enough time, but what was he to do with the burning of his face? Not a damn thing.

“How original, Doctor,” he finally managed. “There was no cause for you to do that on my account.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s still around somewhere,” Stephen said breezily.

Loki lifted an eyebrow.

“It _is_ an authentic, limited-edition Jaeger LeCoultre, Loki.”

A low chuckle emanated from Loki’s throat, now relieved of its constricting tightness. Within seconds, it escalated into full-blown, hearty laughter.

Stephen could only stare in amazement, struck by the epiphany that he was witnessing Loki at his most exposed.

And Loki was beautiful.

When the fit finally passed, Loki wheezed a breathless, “What?”

Stephen’s gaze was still fixed on the rouge on Loki’s usually pale cheeks. “We’re late for our date.”

“A pepper-tasting session at the greenhouse is hardly a date, Strange.” But for all his hoity-toity demeanour, Loki looked suspiciously excited.

“At least we know it’ll be a smoking hot first date.”

Loki snorted. “It’d better be.”

Stephen held out a hand.

“Shall we?” He asked quietly.

Loki stared down at Stephen’s hand. The lighter strip of skin around Stephen’s wrist was glaring.

“Well.” He wrapped his fingers around Stephen’s shaking wrist and found himself breathing easier now that he could no longer see it. “I _am_ kinda hungry.”

“I’m glad.” Stephen turned to lead Loki toward the awaiting portal and his smile vanished. “That’s strange.”

“What?”

“My portal. I don’t remember closing it.” Stephen frowned deeply. “Did you see anyone slip through?”

Loki shook his head.

“Must be a glitch,” Stephen mumbled. But the way he had suddenly tightened his grip around Loki’s hand was unsettling.

“Stephen?”

Stephen shook his head vehemently. “It’s nothing.” He quickly conjured another portal with his sling ring. “Come on.”

But as they stepped through the new portal right into the heart of New Asgard’s gardens, Stephen could not help but succumb to the fear churning in the pit of his stomach…that something was going to happen. Something bad.

_Trust my instinct, huh. _


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is parallel to [Chapter 7](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667962/chapters/42684137) of The Contract.

“Would you consider our first date a success?”

“As a matter of fact, I would. The garden was beautiful, the company was pleasant and the baby liked the food.” Ever the wary one, Loki halted in his steps and asked sharply, “Why?”

“I don’t know…” Stephen drawled. “We didn’t get to talk very much.”

“With guards and servants abound? And after what just happened on the cliff?” Loki resumed walking, but at a much slower pace. “Either of us could have said something not meant for the public’s ears.”

Stephen hated to agree, but Loki had a point. He forced himself to smile. “You’re right. As far as first dates went, that wasn’t so bad.”

Loki’s fingers grazed the back of his hand lightly. “You worry too much.”

“So I’ve been told,” Stephen admitted grudgingly.

Before long, they reached the gilded double doors to Loki’s private rooms. “Would you like to come in?”

When Stephen visibly hesitated, Loki added hurriedly, “I just thought we could talk over coffee or something. But of course, if you have somewhere else to be…”

Stephen shouldered his way in with a breezy, “You worry too much. I’d love nothing more.”

He made himself comfortable in Loki's armchair and waited as Loki slowly scooped a few tablespoons of ground coffee into a cafetière before filling half of it with hot water. They both watched over the next minute enraptured, Loki by the gently blooming coffee, Stephen by the sight of Loki doing so domestic with such refrained, understated flair.

When it was done, Loki added a generous splash of cream into Stephen’s coffee, before wordlessly handing the steaming coffee mug over.

“Thanks.” Stephen took the first sip and his eyes widened in delighted surprise. “This is very good coffee.”

Loki’s only reply was a small smile.

“You’re not having any?”

Loki shook his head.

“A cup or two a day is perfectly safe, Loki.”

“I know,” Loki said softly. He was perfectly content with watching Stephen enjoy his drink.

“You’re making that face again,” Stephen commented when the scrutiny became a bit too much. 

“What face?”

“Like you want to ask me a thousand questions but are too afraid to ask even one.”

“Only for fear of having to answer one in return.”

“Quid pro quo, Loki,” Stephen said after a pause, but Loki’s well-honed sixth sense began to tingle – and that could only mean one thing: beneath Stephen’s cool demeanour lurked a simmering desire to strip Loki bare, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“How unfortunate.”

“I’ll allow one, on the house as a gesture of goodwill.” Stephen smacked his lips, sticky with syrup and cream. “And because you make damn good coffee.”

Loki’s smile did not return. He only looked deep in thought, and Stephen braced himself for what was to come, not knowing what to expect.

“You don’t seem like someone who’s very keen on having children.”

For all his effort, Stephen still found himself clenching his mug tighter. 

Finally, “Not a question, Odinson.”

“Were you disappointed? When it turned out to be me?” Loki asked quietly.

“To be honest, Loki...” Stephen drawled Loki’s name out in the vain attempt to buy him more time to choose his words carefully. “When I first took you to my bed...”

Stephen must have hesitated for too long. Loki closed the distance between them and towered over Stephen, eyes haunted and wide with fear. “Yes?”

“The simple truth is - ” Stephen’s resolve faltered under the intensity of Loki’s gaze. “You were all I wanted. That night.”

Loki’s voice was barely audible when he finally spoke. “Would you still have wanted me had you known this was going to happen?”

That took a heartbeat longer to answer.

“Yes and no,” Stephen admitted truthfully.

“If I may be so bold…” Loki gathered what was left of his courage. “What of the no?”

“I spent months worrying that I had forced this on you.” Stephen’s eyes dropped to Loki’s belly. “In my line of work, accidents cost lives. I just don’t want this to cost yours.”

“There is nothing that goes on in your body that you do not know, you said.” Stephen’s voice grew quieter and quieter. “And I stopped you. The night you got pregnant.”

Loki slowly took a seat on the bed a distance away, but close enough still that Stephen could see the wariness in his eyes. “Strange, what are you talking about?”

“You knew better, but it didn’t matter to me. Not then, anyway. I was a stranger and I took the choice from you.” Stephen finally looked up, his grey eyes deep pools of regret. “I’m sorry.”

“Stephen…” Loki bravely reached for his hand. “That was not why I tried to – ” he shook his head vehemently, “That was not why I did it.”

Stephen’s unhappy demeanour only strengthened Loki’s conviction.

“I would give my life for my children.” Loki placed his other hand on his belly. “Any of my children. Accidental or no.”

Stephen stared at him in bewilderment.

“To be wanted by one parent, and not the other…” Loki’s eyes clouded over. “Giving it breath would have been an act of abject cruelty.”

Stephen’s gravely morose aura shifted into one of dismay and disbelief. “You thought I wouldn’t want him?”

“You said so yourself, Doctor, that night.” Loki looked away. “That at any point in time, you may know everything about me, and at the same time, absolutely nothing.”

Loki hid his discomposure behind a casual shrug. “Well, unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of foresight. I knew nothing about you.”

The ensuing silence stretched into minutes, heavy and foreboding.

When Stephen finally spoke, his voice was almost a whisper, conspiratorial with the promise of a coveted secret. “Shall I tell you of the yes?”

Loki nodded mutely.

“After my accident, I thought I had lost everything. And I’m not just talking about my hands. My career, my livelihood, my relationship – ” A sharp intake of breath, “My chance at family.”

“Family?”

“Of course, I wasn’t looking to settle down even back then. But one day…maybe. Someday.” Stephen let out a wistful sigh. “I had my whole life ahead of me. Having children was the last thing on my mind.”

When Loki turned to look, he saw that Stephen was now wearing a smile.

It was a very sad, lonely smile. “I just never expected to have the choice taken from me. And I had no say in it.”

A lump rose in Loki’s throat. “Stephen…”

“So yes, it came as a shock but then I thought maybe this is it.” Stephen’s sad smile turned almost shy. “Maybe this is my someday.”

Loki broke into his first genuine smile. “I am flattered, Doctor.”

“It’s my turn now.” At the sight of Loki’s eyebrows twitching in confusion, Stephen elaborated patiently. “To ask questions. I definitely answered more than one.”

“I am a God, Strange. I only answer when I want to.”

“And here I thought we were finally having a real conversation.” Stephen challenged Loki with a look. “You might just want to answer this one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Because my question’s not about you.” Stephen bobbed his head a few times. “Well. Not technically.”

Curiously, Loki nodded. “Intriguing. Go on. Ask it then.”

“Why me?” Stephen’s question hung heavily in the air; if not for the sudden stiffening of Loki’s shoulders, he would have thought it gone unnoticed. “That night. Why come to me?”

Loki did not answer.

“It couldn’t have been my good looks, could it?” Stephen mulled seriously.

That finally broke the ice; Loki pursed his lips and tried not to laugh. “They may…have been partly responsible, yes.” A delicate roll of the eyes. “And they call _me_ vain.”

But Stephen was not ready to let it go just yet. “My devastating looks and what else?”

“It was either you or Agent Barton, Strange,” Loki said lightly. “It was hardly a difficult choice.”

“Well…you’re not exactly spoilt for choice here on Earth, are you.”

Loki looked at him sharply; for once, Stephen was enjoying flaunting the vigour of his youth…relatively speaking, of course. “We must all seem so young to you.”

“Oh, but you’re not young, are you, Doctor?”

Stephen stilled.

“Something in your eyes.” Loki reached out and delicately fingered the crow’s feet at Stephen’s temple. “I look in the mirror sometimes and I see something similar.”

“What do you see?” Stephen’s heart began to race, unsure if he really wanted to know the answer, and at the same time dying to.

“Someone who has seen death as many times as I,” Loki whispered. “A survivor.”

Stephen forgot to breathe -

“Seven billion people on Earth and I found my kindred spirit in you,” he felt Loki’s fingers trail down his face to thumb the line of his lip gently. “Does that answer your question, Stephen?”

At a sudden loss for words from euphoria, Stephen nodded numbly.

“Now will you answer one of mine?” Loki gazed deeply into his soul. “Truthfully?”

“Sure,” slipped out of his mouth before Stephen knew it, so lost was he in Loki’s eyes –

“The Unification Spell you used on me the night we made him.”

Stephen’s stomach lurched.

“What are you not telling me about it?” Loki asked, the quietness of his voice belying the storm brewing in his eyes. “I saw the look on Wong’s face, back at the Sanctum when you were taking my blood. I heard what he said. And I heard what _you_ said after the battle in Central Park.”

Loki searched Stephen’s face in wonder. “This spell holding us together, the baby and I. It does not feel like your magic. Not entirely.”

“That’s because it isn’t mine. I mean, not originally.”

"What?"

Stephen took a deep breath, bracing himself for the difficult conversation ahead. “Have you ever heard of Inanna?”

“The Mesopotamian Goddess of Fertility and Procreation? Of course.”

“In ancient Sumerian times, among her devotees were women plagued by miscarriages or difficulty conceiving. Her shamans knew of a spell, sacred and volatile, but guaranteed to work. They cautioned against it but for many of these women, they were desperate and willing to pay whatever the price.”

“Soon they discovered that as more and more babies survived in the womb, more and more babies were being born with congenital abnormalities, devastating deformities…they realised that Mother Nature had not been as cruel as they thought. It was simply…natural selection.”

“Natural selection,” Loki echoed. “Was that why you were so afraid? That our child could be…deformed?”

“Partly,” Stephen admitted with an embarrassed twiddling of his thumbs. “But I think I can live with the uncertainty now. As we agreed, we will love him no matter what form he takes.”

“But you’re still so afraid to be with me,” Loki said softly. “Why?”

“You heard what Wong said,” Stephen said dimly. “And what I said.”

“I am not going to miscarry, Stephen,” Loki said firmly. “I know the limit of the magic I can use before it becomes unsafe, and I am nowhere near it.”

Stephen tipped his head upward to meet Loki’s unflinching gaze.

They did make a promise to trust each other after all.

“Alright, Loki,” Stephen relented, deciding to give Loki the benefit of the doubt as he rightfully deserved. “Alright.”

“If there are no further questions, I hope that is all for now?” Loki asked hopefully.

“Why? Are you tired of talking already?” Stephen teased.

“I have to admit, I am a bit out of practice,” Loki confessed. “I didn’t see much need for it back in New York.”

“Talking is necessary.”

“Talking is _exhausting_.” Loki raked a hand through his dishevelled hair. “Now unless one of us is dying or in dire need of help, let us not do it again.”

“Then how do we go about communicating with each other?”

“I can show you.” Loki suddenly lunged forward, catching Stephen’s lips in his, and with unrestrained ferocity kissed him once and kissed him hard. “There. Like that.”

After returning the kiss with a few hungry ones of his own, “I could be convinced,” Stephen managed, his lips smarting.

Loki smiled an especially sunny smile and threw himself backward onto the mattress.

“So.” Stephen cleared his throat. “What are you up to now?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a little siesta.” Loki stretched languidly on the bed. “It’s too hot to be doing anything outside. Care to join me?”

Stephen shook his head apologetically. “I’d love to, but I’d better check in with Wong on where we are with the whole mystery attacker thing.”

“Could have just been a random assault,” Loki murmured, before opening his eyes to stare up at the ceiling; he spent the next few seconds staring at nothing in particular. “I’m a magnet for trouble, Thor once told me.”

Stephen resisted the urge to snort. “In all the centuries you’ve lived, has any of the assaults you’ve endured been random?”

Loki let out a sadistic chuckle, sinister and completely devoid of mirth.

It was all the affirmation Stephen needed; trying to sound casual, he pursued the issue as delicately as he could. “You haven’t sensed anything sinister ever since we arrived in Asgard?”

Loki shook his head.

“None of your wards has gone off?”

Loki shook his head again, but the way he suddenly began to chew the inside of his lip caught Stephen’s attention. “What is it, Loki?”

“No, but the wards are hardly foolproof,” Loki said reluctantly. “My magic’s been a bit…erratic ever since I got pregnant. And I dare not use too much magic on stronger spells lest they harm our child.”

Stephen slowly laid himself on the bed and studied Loki's solemn side profile. “Do you want me to take you somewhere else?”

Loki glanced at him out the corner of his eye. “I assume you mean one of your safehouses?”

“The Order has a few, the locations of which known only to me and a handful of others.”

Loki made a face of distaste. “No, thank you. I should – I should be safe here. With Thor, the Valkyrie.” He gave Stephen’s hand a gentle squeeze. “You.”

“I’ll find out who was behind the attack.” A determined look came over Stephen’s face. “I promise.”

Loki closed his eyes as Stephen leaned in to give a lingering, parting kiss. “Be safe, Stephen.”

“Always.”

____________________________________

Loki had drifted off as soon as Stephen had freshened himself up in the bathroom. If the second trimester was usually when pregnant human women regained their energy, the opposite seemed to be the case for Loki.

Stephen closed the door behind him as quietly as he could, but broke into jog when he caught sight of the figure walking at the far end of the corridor.

“Lady Valkyrie.”

“Yeah…” Valkyrie turned around slowly, “No.”

“Pardon?”

“Drop the formalities, Fancy Man. It doesn’t get anyone very far nowadays.”

“It got you plenty far,” Stephen said. “Loki told me Thor made you Captain of the Kingsguard.”

“Coz there’s no one left to do it. We are a dying breed, Fancy Man.”

“It’s _Doctor_, actually. Doctor Strange.”

Valkyrie’s face split into a sly smile. “Aye, Doctor, I see where _that_ has gotten you.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Always goes for the authoritarian type, our Prince Loki,” Valkyrie tut-tutted under her breath. “So predictable.”

Stephen stared at her, his expression caught somewhere between deeply flabbergasted and utterly horrified.

“But since you’re a guest of the Crown and all that hogwash…” With a great sigh, she drew herself up straighter. “How may I be of service, Doctor?”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but shouldn’t there be guards posted outside Loki’s room?”

“If you see none of our elite Einherjar posted outside Prince Loki’s chamber, then know that it is at His Highness’ behest,” Valkyrie said calmly.

Stephen winced inwardly. Loki valued his privacy, that much he knew; it seemed to be common knowledge too, just as he suspected.

“We do have guards patrolling the area round-the-clock if you’re worried about security,” Valkyrie added defensively, eyeing him in askance. “The prince even had the whole place warded against intruders, surely you can sense them?”

“Yes, but still…” he hesitated, “It wouldn’t hurt to post a few men outside his room, would it?”

“Are you sure?” Valkyrie asked carefully. “Someone once told me that the French are very loud lovers. I’ve always wondered if it’s true.”

“Huh?”

“Can’t stop people talking once the rumor mill starts turning,” Valkyrie cautioned, before shrugging coolly. “But hey it’s none of my business what you youngsters get up to behind closed doors, is it.”

“I…think you’ve gone off on a tangent there, Valkyrie,” Stephen said slowly. “Loki may think he doesn’t need anyone looking out for him, but we can never be too cautious.”

Valkyrie gave him an odd look. “He may not look it but he is a very able fighter. And he has magic at his disposal too.”

“I am not saying he is incapable of defending himself, my Lady,” Stephen argued, desperate to make her understand without revealing too much. “Only that he shouldn’t be made to. Not in his condition.”

Valkyrie was silent as she regarded him calculatingly.

Stephen could almost hear the wheels turning in her head, and when she finally settled on her one question, Stephen was relieved that it was one that would not put Loki’s so-called ‘condition’ under further scrutiny.

“Are there enemies in our midst?” There was an edge in her voice that had not been present before.

“There might,” Stephen said tightly.

Valkyrie’s composure stiffened; Stephen quickly held up a hand.

“But I cannot be sure. I don’t know who is coming and when they will come, if they will come.” He dropped his gaze. “Only that it would put my mind at ease knowing that Loki is better protected, while I investigate.”

“He’s not going to like it,” Valkyrie warned, after a pause.

“I know,” Stephen said lightly. “I’ll think of something to say to him in case he flies off his handle.”

Valkyrie looked at him with new eyes. “No need. I’ll take care of it.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“Consider it done, Fancy Man.” Out of the blue, Valkyrie swatted him on the side of the arm, too lightly to be ill-intentioned, yet not casually enough to be playful.

Or maybe she just didn’t know how to pull her punches.

Stephen heaved a sigh. “And you were doing so well.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Valkyrie smirked. “But it’s kinda hard to take you seriously with that thing flapping about on your back like chicken wings.”

“It has a name,” Stephen let out a frustrated growl. “The Cloak of Levitation.”

“Not helping your case at all,” Valkyrie drawled.

She winced comically. “Midgardians. Always so wordy. Can’t fault you I guess, with you being French and all.”

“What?”

Valkyrie turned on her heels and began to sashay down the corridor, waving a theatrical hand goodbye. “Au revoir!”

Stephen turned his head slowly. “What just happened?”

Equally puzzled, La Cape de Lévitation gave the equivalent of a helpless shrug.

“Asgardians,” Stephen murmured, following Valkyrie’s retreating form with his eyes as she disappeared around a corner. “What a funny lot.”

____________________________________

Stephen found Wong in the Atrium, and he jogged up the grand staircase to meet his fellow Master half way.

“Going somewhere?”

“Yes.” Wong slipped on his sling ring. “Word on the street is that the mysterious affliction has turned Jonathan Pangborn back into the cripple he one was. I am on my way to see him to find out more.”

“Pangborn?” Stephen said incredulously. “My Jonathan Pangborn?”

Wong looked at him oddly. “Strangely possessive of you, but I don’t judge so…okay.”

“He was my patient. Well, sort of. I rejected him when the referral came because his spinal injury was irreversible, medically speaking.” Stephen’s voice dropped to a nostalgic soliloquy. “He was the one who told me of Kamar-Taj.”

“This isn’t on you, Stephen.”

“We don’t know enough of anything to acquit me of anything, Wong.”

“Nor do we know enough to hold you accountable either.” Ever the voice of reason, Wong simply patted Stephen on the shoulder and waltzed past him down the stairs, before pausing on the very last step. “Why are you back here anyway? New leads on your end?”

Stephen tapped his fingers on the mahogany banister, finally revealing his pent-up agitation. “Something strange happened this morning.”

Stephen filled Wong in on how his portal had mysteriously closed without his express command, something that had never happened before.

“Is someone or something siphoning off my magic too?” he wondered aloud.

Wong shook his head. “You would have lost all abilities to do magic. Yet you teleported here without a problem.”

“So that leaves us with one explanation.”

“Two, actually. Either you’re getting forgetful and don’t remember closing the portal yourself, or –” Wong’s nasty grin disappeared, “Someone hijacked your portal.”

“Hijacked?”

“More like hitch-hiked.” Wong looked thoughtful. “You said you conjured the portal in your bedroom, and it opened up onto the Cliffs?”

Stephen nodded slowly. “There was no one in my room when I left…and my wards would have alerted me to intruders.”

“The portals don’t exactly work in a linear fashion, Stephen. He or she could have accessed your portal from any potential jump-off points along its route,” Wong mulled. “What matters is the destination. That remains unchanged.”

“Potential jump-off points.” Stephen narrowed his eyes. “Meaning?”

“Be it habit or ease of transportation, if you’re going to the same place, the portals will almost always open onto somewhere familiar, somewhere you’ve landed before.” Wong rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Have you ever opened up a portal before this morning that opened up onto the Cliffs of New Asgard?”

“Several times,” Stephen answered right off the bat. “The first time was when I relocated Odin Allfather after he broke himself free of Loki’s mind enchantment…”

“Too long ago.”

“The second time was when Thor and Loki came to Earth looking for Odin – ”

“That was what, 2017?” Wong shook his head. “Still too long ago. The magic trail would have denatured by now.”

“And most recently…” A sinking feeling began to churn in the pit of Stephen’s stomach. “Was a few days ago.”

Stephen lifted his head to gaze at the skylight bearing the emblem of the Eye of Agamotto.

Accusing. Judging.

“Right from the heart of the Sanctum,” he whispered.

Wong’s sharp intake of breath brought him around. “What is it, Wong?”

“When did you say this happened?” Wong pressed. “The exact time?”

Stephen tried to recall. “Quarter past eleven? It couldn’t have been any later.”

Stephen did not think it possible for Wong to look more serious than he always did, but it was.

“I was walking on the first floor when I thought I sensed someone opening up a portal inside the drawing room,” Wong said tersely.

Stephen frowned. “You didn’t look to see who it was?”

“When I opened the door there was nobody there.” The glimmer of fear in Wong’s eyes must have mirrored Stephen’s own. “I thought it was you.”

Stephen crossed his arms, and pressed a balled fist to his lips. “This is not good, Wong.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I was thinking of coming with you to see Pangborn, but now…”

“Leave Pangborn to me. You take care of Loki and the baby.” Wong hooked a thumb through his sash belt. “I have a feeling this isn’t over.”

Stephen nodded curtly, before running up the stairs. He needed to get to the drawing room, there might just be clues this mystery sorcerer could have left behind – it had to be one of his own, for who else had access to the Sanctum?

This isn’t random, Loki, he thought. This is personal.

_But personal to whom?_

Stephen was in the middle of scrying every nook and corner of the drawing room for magic residues, since each sorcerer had his own magical signature that might just be detectable, when he heard Loki call out.

_“Stephen?”_

_“I’ve only been gone an hour, Loki. This is a record.”_ Despite the new problems arisen, Stephen simply had to smile. _“Someone had better be dying.”_

_“I think I am, actually_._”_ A pained groan crackled through the connection. Stephen’s smile froze.

_“Loki, what’s the matter?”_

_“I don’t know…” _Loki groaned again, louder this time. “_There is a peculiar pain in my belly, and it is most distressing.” _

In record time, Stephen found himself back in New Asgard, his heart thundering against his ribcage the entire time.

When he saw the four Einherjar warriors standing guard outside Loki’s room, his steps slowed but to his satisfaction, they paid him no heed and allowed him in readily.

“I left you safe and sound.” Stephen viciously glared at the figure writhing on the bed like a trapped animal.

“I got peckish.” Loki had the gall to pout. “Baby wants what it wants.”

“Right,” Stephen pinched the bridge of his nose. “The baby was peckish “

“For baked apples and pears,” Loki said dismissively, waving his hand about in a ‘what’s so wrong about that?’ kind of way.

Stephen pointedly looked at the collection of dirty platter and cutlery on the coffee table. He marched over and lifted the cloche.

“With hot sauce,” he deadpanned.

“There was plenty left over from our date, wouldn’t want it to go to waste,” Loki countered. Then he let out a soft, pitiful moan. “I’m never eating again, this is absolutely horrible…”

Stephen sighed again. _Here we go._

_____________________________________________

When Loki’s oversensitive stomach finally settled, the night had fallen outside.

‘I am not one to be swayed by disillusionment, Strange. I am no more safe here than back in New York as you would have me believe.’ Loki’s ominous words would not stop replaying in his head like a broken record.

In the vain attempt to cull his obsessive thoughts, Stephen channelled all his energy into his hand and massaged Loki’s stomach harder, only realising what he was doing when Loki suddenly winced.

Stephen fumbled over his apology, “Sorry, my mind was elsewhere – ”

“Don’t stop,” Loki interrupted, circling his own fingers around Stephen’s wrist to keep it where it was.

“Keep doing that please,” Loki murmured. “Calms him down.”

Stephen resumed rubbing circles over Loki’s growing bump, more gently this time. “You sure the baby’s alright?”

“Yes. He’s just channelling Fred Astaire doing the Boogie Barcarolle on my bladder and I can’t be arsed to get up to go pee.”

Stephen chuckled but said nothing.

“To think that there was a time when I could eat anything,” Loki lamented.

“Well if you’re going to be bingeing on things you’re not supposed to in the middle of the night and I’m not here, I’m happy that there are guards outside the door,” Stephen said lightly. “Make sure you scream loud enough so they can hear you.”

“Thor’s orders, Val said.” Loki rolled his eyes. “She didn’t give me much of a choice. It was either that, or have Thor bunk in with me.”

Stephen’s hand stilled. “Really.”

“Really.”

“It…might be safer with Thor around,” Stephen said awkwardly.

Not perturbed in the slightest by Stephen’s forcefully casual albeit slightly disturbed tone, Loki agreed readily, “It might. But Thor has enough on his plate without him losing sleep worrying over me.”

Almost as an afterthought, Loki added, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not fighting him.” Loki cocked his head to meet Stephen’s gaze. “I know you’d rather have me stay with you back in New York.”

Stephen shook his head. “New York or Asgard, I am wherever you are.”

Loki stared at him with the most unreadable expression, only that his eyes were softer than Stephen had ever seen them. “The Grandmaster has nothing on you.”

Stephen fumed inside. Again with this Grandmaster fella – wait. “Come again?”

Loki laughed silently.

“Go to sleep,” Stephen said softly.

“You can stay if you want,” Loki murmured drowsily. “If the bed’s big enough for Thor, it’s big enough for you.”

“O-kay.” Stephen decided he had had enough of black Asgardian humour for one day. With an exaggerated sigh, he lifted the covers and slid his legs in. “If you insist.”

“I insist.” Ever the spontaneous one, Loki grabbed Stephen’s tunic and pulled him in for a kiss. “Asgard or New York, I am safer wherever _you_ are.”

Stephen must have said something in return, but the hours of battling terrible indigestion pain and the pull of sleep were weighing his senses down. All that mattered was the one strong hand holding his under the covers, the other warm and comforting on his belly.

The baby shifted inside him, and Loki smiled, for even in his sleep he knew in his heart…their son was lucky to have Stephen as a father.

When he awoke again, the room was pitch-dark; over the next few heartbeats, Loki struggled to regain his bearing – what had woken him up?

The ruckus. There was a commotion going on outside.

He tried to push himself up to a sitting position, but the hand he remembered holding when he had gone off to sleep was now clapped over his mouth –

“Stephen?!” In panic, he tried to prise the unfamiliar fingers off his face, but froze when he suddenly felt the tip of something press against his throat, ice-cold and razor-sharp.

_“Hello, Prince.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. Things may not be easy for most of us at the moment, but I haven't abandoned the series. For those still following the story, thank you for your on-going support. Hope you enjoy. ❤️


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place after [Chapter 11](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667962/chapters/42928220#workskin) of The Contract.

As the Sorcerer Supreme stepped out of the healing chamber where Loki was resting for the evening, Thor studied Stephen’s face. It was bright, much brighter than Thor had ever seen it, and Thor felt his own heart give a flip.

“He is awake?”

“Yes.”

“I wish to see my Brother. Is he well?” In his excitement, Thor barely managed to keep his voice at normal conversational level.

“Yes, he is!” A voice bellowed from inside, followed by a soft, irritable _‘Ow.’_

With a resigned sigh, Stephen stepped aside to let Thor through. “Be my guest.”

“Loki. How are you feeling?”

Loki did not answer. He glanced Thor up and down and winced, in sympathy this time rather than pain, which had quickly become forgotten at the sight of his Brother’s heavy stubble and raccoon eyes.

“You look terrible,” Loki said accusingly.

“Then you must know whose fault it is,” Thor countered.

“I did warn you not to dilly dally for too long. You should have responded to Oslo’s request for a trade talk by now, before the world oil price crashes again.”

“Stop.”

Loki rambled on. “And I hope you did not forget to make it rain this past week, if we hope to have enough to feed the people by the next harvest season. The crops need heavy rain, especially the rice, and maize, and – ”

“Stop.” Thor massaged his eyebrow tiredly. “Just. Stop.”

Loki abruptly ceased talking.

“Maize…” Thor began to chuckle a low, short, _mirthless_ laugh. “You almost died – _did_ die in fact – and you talk of maize.”

“Well…” Loki sought to prove a point with a long drawl, only to finish with a lame “Maize _is_ important.”

This time, Thor’s chuckle was one of relief…and grief.

“How many times, Loki?” Thor asked imploringly. 

“In my defense, Brother, I did not exactly bring it upon myself this time.”

“No.” Thor’s face turned dark. “No, you did not.”

“Everyone has enemies, Thor,” Loki said flatly.

“Yes, only this time it wasn’t an enemy, was it. It was a _friend_.” Thor’s flat tone belied the storm brewing in his eyes. “You’re telling me now I have to look out for his friends too?”

Loki’s mouth fell open. “You cannot honestly hold Stephen accountable for what happened.”

Thor propped his elbows on Loki’s bed and reached up to grip his blond hair tightly. “You’re right, Brother. I should not have spoken ill of him.”

When Thor lifted his head again, his eyes were apologetic but his sunny smile looked false.

“He saved your life, and that of your baby. For that, I am eternally grateful.” Thor gave a visible shudder. “Him and Master Wong both. Without them, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Speaking of Wong, where is he? Is he still around?” Loki was glad for the change in subject. “I should like to thank him.”

“He took their friend’s body home yesterday to give him a proper burial on Stephen’s behalf.”

Loki found it suddenly difficult to breathe. He tried to push himself up but the stabbing pain deep inside his abdomen stopped him halfway once more.

Thor fussed a hand over his shoulder, pushing him flat on his back again.

“I need to sit,” Loki gasped. “Thor, help me up.”

“Easy, Brother.” Thor pressed on the bed incline controller to raise the head section, all the while keeping an anxious eye on Loki’s ashen face. “Do not upset yourself.”

“I. Am not. Upset.” Loki gritted his teeth. He knew Mordo was dead. Stephen had told him as much.

So why was he feeling like this? What was this sinking feeling in the pit of his gut?

“Did you want to see him? This…Karl Mordo?” Thor asked once Loki was calm enough to regulate his breathing without consciously doing so.

Loki did not answer. Now that he was sitting up, the overhead light suddenly seemed too bright.

“Loki?” he dimly heard his Brother call.

Loki closed his eyes.

_I wanted to look him in the eye and ask him why._

“I’m calling someone.” Loki heard and sensed his Brother fussing at the wall for the emergency call button.

_No_.

Loki swiftly reached out a hand and found Thor’s wrist.

The strength with which he squeezed it Thor must have found reassuring, for Thor was sitting by his bed once more; Loki welcomed the touch of Thor’s other hand as it covered his own like a warm second skin.

“I am alright, Thor.”

A snort. “I wish I could believe you.”

Loki opened his eyes slowly, for he finally felt a smile creeping in. Trust Thor to be the one constant in his life; no matter how dire things looked, he could always count on Thor to be the predictable and reliable rock that he was.

“And then where will we be?” Loki asked to himself.

“Where we’ve always been, Brother,” Thor said gently. “Side by side.” Forever.

“Truly, Brother?” Loki wished he too, could believe Thor in return; there was only so many times he could save himself before his luck ran out. “If you seek only to give false comfort, then rest assured that I do not hold anything against you, or anyone.”

Thor, ever the optimist, only gripped Loki’s knuckles tighter. “I am your Brother, and you mine. Nothing gives me greater comfort than seeing you alive and well.”

The baby shifted within him, and Loki stifled a cry at the exquisite pain that followed what should have been an innocent, gentle prod – and he wondered what else was broken inside him.

“Not the word I’d use,” he gasped, letting go of Thor’s wrist to clutch uselessly at the sheets beneath him. He dared not touch his belly for fear of setting off another wave of pain.

“Here,” Thor shoved an object in his face, looking all panicky, “Stephen said you should press this whenever you’re in pain – ”

Loki shook his head. “No, I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t? I was assured it was safe!” Thor rambled on. “It is a derivative of opium, you had me try some back when you were meddling with Midgard’s Opium Wars, remember? Knocked us both out like a bilgesnipe!”

“Exactly,” Loki panted. “I do not – wish to – I can’t fall asleep. I _won’t_.”

“What?” Thor demanded incredulously. “Why not?”

Loki’s eyes blazed. “The last time I did, I woke up not only alone, but in the clutches of a mad man.”

“Loki, Mordo is dead.” Thor tried to make Loki see reason, “He can’t hurt you anymore.”

_Yes. Mordo is dead. I killed him. _

“Yes. But what of the next? And the one after that?” Loki let out a crazed laughter. “And here I thought my killing days were behind me.”

“Loki…”

“I wish to be alone now, Thor.”

“I do not think that is such a good idea.”

Loki did not think he could stand the sight of his Brother’s worried face a second longer. “Thor. Please.”

“Alright, Brother.”

______________________________________

“Here is a list of all the ligand dimerization studies I’ve done on Loki and the corresponding pharmacological compound he is likely to respond to according to the GPCR ligand-association database.”

Stephen accepted the binder with not an insignificant amount of apprehension. For all he knew, the ingredients for any tincture Loki might benefit from could be something so obscure so as to exist no longer, or only be available on some distant planet.

“I’ve tried my best to match it to the drugs currently available in the market.” Bruce watched as Stephen rifled through the pages. “It’s incomplete, but at least now you know which basic medications are safe to use.”

Stephen found himself breathing easier the further he went down the list. It relieved him to no end now knowing that he needed not go in blind anymore in matters concerning Midgardian medicine; most emergency and cardiovascular drugs were on the approved list.

Most importantly, “Delta, mu and kappa opioid receptors all detected?" In a rare display of delight, Stephen slapped the side of Bruce's arm lightly with the binder. "This is _excellent_, Dr Banner.”

Bruce beamed. “So most opioids are safe, but – ” he lifted a warning finger, “Ketamine and your OTC dextromethorphan are big no-nos, to name a few. Nothing that targets NMDA receptors, cos he hasn’t got them.”

“Got it.” Stephen’s eyebrows had yet to return to their normal position, so highly they were riding on his forehead. “I’m very impressed.”

“Well, my eidetic memory may not be as good as yours but I guess I do remember a few things from my BSc days.”

Stephen’s eyes shone. “I’m beyond grateful. Thank you.”

Bruce shrugged modestly. “It’s not just me you have to thank. Tony helped too. He lifted the restrictions allowing remote access to his servers in New York where I keep all the biometric and physiological data I have collected so far on Loki.”

Stephen went quiet. “Tony knows?”

Bruce hid a wince. “I’m sorry, Strange. But it’s easier to apologise for spilling the beans than trying to resuscitate the dead?”

“I’m sure Loki would understand,” Stephen mumbled finally. “Sooner or later.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “So you figured out the formula yet?”

“I’ve decided to play it by ear. It’s safer that way.”

“For you or for him?”

“For both of us, I think.” Stephen inhaled deeply. “That way I’m not setting myself up for disappointment, and Loki isn’t pressured into leaving his comfort zone.”

“Yes. Why change your status quo? It’s not like that isn’t the reason why so many relationships fail,” Bruce said lightly.

Stephen stared. “I don’t know why people find your Hulk persona unsettling. You are much more terrifying, Dr Banner.”

“It’s my secret weapon,” Bruce said easily. “The genius and the brawn. People forget that I’m both.”

________________________________________

The next morning came not a moment too soon, and Loki welcomed it for being the sole reason the barrage of nightmares finally decided to release him from its clutches. What little sleep his body succumbed to had left him feeling more exhausted that he wondered if it was worth returning to bed to convalesce at all.

As he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, Loki took in his deathly pallor for the first time and wondered if he was not in fact, dead, and only imagining being alive still.

He pinched his cheek to see if the colour would return to his face, but he only succeeded in making it blanch further.

Stephen did say he lost quite a lot of blood.

Stephen said a lot of things, a little voice said suddenly in his head. Remember?

_‘I love you.’_

Loki wavered, and gripped the edge of the sink.

_‘You and me, together.’_

“A dream,” he muttered. “I’m still dreaming.”

“Loki?” he heard a muffled voice through the door.

Loki braced himself and opened the door. True enough, Stephen's smile faltered at the sight of him; Loki did not return it, steadfastly avoiding Stephen's gaze as he shuffled pathetically out of the bathroom like an overgrown, sleep-deprived slug.

“How did you sleep?”

“How do you think I slept?”

“The Healers told me you have been refusing painkillers.” Stephen needed only to study the erratic racing of Loki’s heart to deduce that Loki was still in a considerable amount of pain…that, and the way Loki was hobbling from the bathroom and refusing to cling to anything but the wall for support.

“Any particular reason why?” Stephen asked casually.

“I just wanted to be left alone,” Loki muttered.

“One can choose to be alone and still be pain-free,” Stephen argued articulately.

“I needed to think,” Loki snapped. “I can’t think if I’m drugged up to my eyeballs now, can I?”

“Your body has just gone through major internal trauma, Loki,” Stephen reminded him gently. “It is resting you should be doing. Not thinking.”

And of course, since Stephen’s tongue had a life of its own, “And you shouldn’t be ambulating unassisted, not even for toileting.”

“I can manage just fine,” Loki lied through gritted teeth.

“Forgive me if I am not convinced,” Stephen said coolly.

With the audacity and self-confidence of someone who had never had anything denied him, Stephen boldly grabbed Loki’s upper arm to help steer his struggling lover back to bed, but that just proved to be the last straw for Loki.

“Just leave me be!” Loki snarled and wrenched his arm out of Stephen’s grasp.

Stephen held his hands up in surrender, his eyes warily tracking Loki’s every move as he staggered toward the bed like a wounded animal. A _caged_ wounded animal.

_And what does one normally do with a wounded animal?_

_You leave it alone_, the saner part of him said.

_Leave it alone to die._

“You are not well, Loki. I cannot leave you like this.”

“I’m sorry for being such an inconvenience,” Loki said bitterly. “And I’m sorry about Mordo.”

Stephen stared at him.

“You missed his funeral because of me, did you not?”

Stephen’s face was still a mask of stunned disbelief but the grief in his eyes was unmistakable; the sight of it made Loki’s ugly heart twist even more.

“You can leave now.” Loki ignored his screaming torso as he turned onto his side; at least his back would not betray him as much as his eyes or his face would as far as body language was concerned. “I would hate for you to miss anything else.”

Stephen let Loki’s poisonous words wash over him like water, detaching himself from this...tension between them, the source of which unbeknownst to anyone but Loki.

He was loath to admit it, but he too, was exhausted beyond words and frankly could not muster the energy to dispel the heavy air of mystery clinging to Loki like a shield.

_Wounded. _

_What does one do with a wounded animal again?_

Let it die.

Stephen studied the stiff curvature of Loki’s back.

Or conversely...let it heal.

Stephen sighed softly. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I won’t,” Loki’s cryptic answer came swift, as did his curt “Goodbye,” marking the abrupt end to their conversation.

Stephen stepped out with a heavy heart, and it grew heavier at the sight of the familiar figure sashaying toward him from the far end of the long corridor.

Stephen slowly began walking to meet her half-way. “My Lady.”

Valkyrie took one look at him and wrinkled her nose. “You look like you need a shower. And a shave.”

Stephen only gave her a tight smile.

“How is he?”

“Angry.” The dejection creasing the gap between Stephen’s eyes was subtle, but not subtle enough to escape the Valkyrie’s keen senses. “Too angry to even tell me why.”

“Hmm,” Valkyrie hummed thoughtfully. She shouldered him out of the way none too gently. “Let me have a go at it.”

Stephen frowned at her retreating back. “You got an idea?”

“Not a clue!” she chirped.

She pushed the door open and announced herself loudly, “Rise and shine, Lackey!”

“I’m not in the mood, Valkyrie.”

“Aww,” she pouted, dragging the only armchair in the room all the way next to Loki’s bed, much to his chagrin. She threw herself noisily into it and hooked a leg through the foot rail of the hospital bed. “And here I thought we could share a bottle of champagne or two, you know, to celebrate you not dying and whatnot.”

“Can’t drink,” Loki growled. “So please, do enjoy the champagne for the three of us.”

He buried his head deeper under the covers. “Just do it far away from here.”

“So what gives, Loki?”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Right.” She poked his calf with the tip of her boot. “Let’s try again. What’s got your knickers all in a twist, my Prince?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“If you’re mad about Fancy Man leaving you alone the night you got kidnapped, then you’ll be happy to know that I already gave him a roasting for that.” Then she muttered under her breath, “Even if he only did it to save my neck.”

Loki turned his head around very slowly.

“We are Asgard’s first line of defense, Highness,” was her dry response to the unspoken question in his eyes. “He would not have left you had he felt the Einherjar guards he requested incapable of protecting you, at least until his return.”

“You told me the guards were placed under Thor’s orders,” Loki said accusingly.

“I lied,” she said smoothly, making a show of studying her cuticles.

Loki glared at her viciously but said nothing.

“I’ve said my thank you.” The Valkyrie was nothing if not blunt. “Have you said yours?”

“You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you.”

“Oh far from it. You’re still in a bit of a haze is what I think.” She sniffed derisively. “I wouldn’t mind being a in a little haze myself.”

Loki’s forehead furrowed.

“I was there, remember? Oh wait. You don’t.” She gave a little smirk. “You were too busy bleeding to death.”

Despite her chiding exterior, there was a subtle shift in her countenance that Loki would have missed had it not been for the fleeting shadow in her almond eyes. “How you survived, the Norns only knew.”

Loki’s hand unconsciously flew to his belly.

“You didn’t see him, Loki,” she said in the gentlest voice Loki had ever heard her use, “He was beside himself.”

“Thor’s always been a drama queen,” Loki managed.

“I’m not talking about Thor and you know it.”

Loki closed his eyes.

Amazing how when one sense closed, another should open.

_‘You are my gift, Loki. And I love you.’ _Stephen’s voice resounded in his head.

Why oh why could it not be Stephen’s sweet face that came to mind every time he closed his eyes?

Loki opened his eyes again and true enough, the bloodlust in Karl Mordo’s eyes was as blatant in the light of day as it was in the dark of his nightmare-laden night no matter how he tried to wish it away. “You do not see what I see, Valkyrie.”

“I saw your son,” Valkyrie said quietly.

Loki’s heart stopped. “What?”

“The Little Prince. I saw him. We all did.” Valkyrie hesitantly reached out to touch the back of Loki’s hand, the one still clasped to his belly. “And he was beautiful.”

Loki’s breaths returned to him in small, short gasps.

“Was he – ” he tried to speak, but the words simply did not come, “Did he look – ?”

“He looked perfect.”

Loki nodded jerkily. He swallowed hard against the tears threatening to clog up his throat. 

“I can’t have champagne,” he began hoarsely. “But maybe if you could ask Stephen for something less intoxicating?”

Valkyrie beamed. “Thought you’d never ask.”

________________________________________

When news spread that the Prince was finally behaving like a good, model patient, it caused quite a stir among the Healers. Stephen was cautiously optimistic; perhaps Valkyrie had once again worked her magic?

He must have stood outside Loki’s door for a full minute, just standing there debating the merits of showing his face so soon when Loki had made it plain and clear that Loki wanted no company, let alone his.

Stephen sighed and was about to turn around on his heels, when the door suddenly opened on its own and a familiar voice called from inside. “Anytime today, Strange.”

What better way to break an awkward silence than by starting an awkward conversation?

“You are looking better.”

“I feel better,” Loki admitted readily.

“Are you ready to talk?” There was only so much small talk Stephen could handle before the urge to scream got the better of him. “About what’s been bothering you?”

Loki heaved a sigh and placed the book he was only pretending to read on the side table. “If I really must.”

That was the only opening Stephen needed. “Loki, as much as I’d love to, I can’t read your mind. You need to talk to me.”

Loki nodded mutely.

“Are you angry with me?” Stephen asked quietly.

“I’m not – ” Loki started to shake his head, but caught himself short. “I don’t…know.”

The pusillanimity of Loki’s answer unnerved him, but at least it was a start. “Okay. Why don’t you start by throwing questions at me, see if we can’t figure this out?”

Loki nodded again, with a little less reluctance this time.

“Does Mordo’s death upset you?”

“It does,” Stephen said calmly. “But not for the reason you think.”

“Why not?” Loki asked. “He was your friend, was he not?”

“He was, yes. But he was also more than that.” A teacher. Mentor. Brother.

“And I killed him,” Loki’s voice dropped. “Your friend is dead because of me.”

Stephen was silent for a long, long time.

“I’ll tell you what kind of man Mordo was. But before that I will tell you of the first man I killed.”

Stephen sat heavily on the edge of the bed. “It was a renegade, the follower of a rogue Sorcerer who deserted the Order to serve another. The New York Sanctum was under attack, and I took his life to protect it.”

“I...grieved. I did not know him and still I grieved.” Stephen’s side profile was as dark as his voice. “Mordo called me a coward.”

Loki edged closer to him until his blanket-covered knee touched the base of Stephen’s spine.

Stephen turned to finally look at him.

“A fanatic, a loyalist, call him what you will. He believed in the Order once. Not long after I met him, something happened.”

“What happened to him?”

“He felt betrayed.” By whom, Stephen did not say. From the look on Loki’s face, he had a feeling he did not need to. “From then on, he served only his principles.”

Stephen took a deep breath. “Betrayal makes you do things.”

“It does,” Loki agreed readily, softly.

Stephen studied Loki's face, still pallid from the remnant of illness. And _fear_. “Did he tell you why he came?”

Loki opened his mouth to lie, but the warning look on Stephen’s face stopped him short.

“He came because of you.” Loki’s tone was flat, but there was no malice in his voice, only truth.

“He did not trust you. Said something about how you broke the natural law of the universe. He called it a reckoning.”

Without thinking, Stephen grabbed Loki’s hand and pulled it to his lap. “I am so, so sorry, Loki.”

“It was not your fault, Stephen.”

“Mordo was my responsibility. I brought him to you.”

A heavy silence fell over the room, ominous and foreboding.

“Are you thinking of leaving?” Loki asked quietly.

“Being with me puts you in danger.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “When am I ever not in danger, Stephen? It is my normal state of being.”

He gave a discreet snort. “I do not play the age card often but do you honestly think being with me is the safest thing for _you_? Some of my enemies are older than Earth itself.”

“So...you don’t want me to leave?” Stephen asked uncertainly.

“I’m more interested to know how you came to draw that conclusion,” Loki said irritably. “Do you always overthink things or do you only do it just to exasperate me?”

“I just – I thought – ” Stephen sounded embarrassed. “What am I missing?”

The irritation left Loki’s expression as quickly as it had come, only to be replaced by what Stephen could only describe as fear.

“What is it, Loki?” Stephen pressed. “Tell me.”

Loki hesitated. “You will hate me.”

“Tell me anyway,” Stephen demanded.

“I told you I was sorry about Mordo.” Loki’s gaze dropped to his lap. “I lied. I am not.”

Loki studied the roundness of his belly and marvelled yet again at how far he had come.

“He would have our son cut out of me just to restore balance to the universe,” he whispered. “I did not mean to kill him, but I did.”

Loki lifted his face again and tried to appear as brave as he sounded. “Does that make you think less of me? If it does, then I cannot very well stop you from leaving.”

Loki’s lower lip quivered. “If it doesn’t, then I would so very much want you to stay. If only to see our son born.”

He squeezed Stephen’s hand as if he was drowning and it was a lifeline. “Because I do not think I can do it alone.”

Stephen fiercely gathered Loki in his arms. “You _idiot_. That thought never even crossed my mind.”

“You protected our baby. If you think I’m going to think any less of you for that...” Stephen cupped the back of Loki’s head. “I’d hate to think of how little you must now think of _me_.”

Loki said nothing. He only buried his face deeper into Stephen’s shoulder.

“And you’ve got another think coming if you think I am ever going to let you go through this alone.” Stephen kissed the top of Loki’s head long and hard. “I’m not letting you go, remember?”

“The thought soothes, yet terrifies me at the same time.”

Stephen frowned at Loki’s gruff admission. “Why?”

“Quid pro quo, you said.”

Stephen sighed into Loki’s full head of hair. “You idiot. Who’s overthinking now?”

“Bruce had my neuronal activity measured once,” Loki murmured. “Said I had too little inhibitory action in my brain.”

Speaking of Bruce, “How much pain are you in right now?”

“It’s…manageable.”

“I bet,” Stephen said dryly. “Will you listen to me and take the pain pills? You can’t afford to have another bad night.”

“It is not pain that keeps me awake, Stephen.”

Like a distant memory, Loki could barely recall Stephen showing him the images of their son, back when he was wavering between life and death on the Cliffs of New Asgard.

“May I see him again?”

Stephen shook his head apologetically. “You can hear him if you want?”

Loki frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Lie down. Lift your shirt.”

Loki reluctantly obeyed. He looked down at his bump and wondered what kind of sound Stephen was expecting him to hear. A cry? White noise, like a whale song?

Out of thin air, Stephen produced a handheld device of some sort, attached to it a long cord-like probe.

The ice-cold gel felt almost painful against his skin as Stephen gently pressed the probe onto his belly, moving it slowly across his abdomen as if searching for something.

And then Loki heard it, as clear as a bell, and his eyes brightened in sheer delight. “Is that – ?”

“That’s his heartbeat, yes,” Stephen spoke in a hushed voice. “Strong and steady, as it should be.”

Loki could listen to the sound forever. “That is amazing,” he murmured.

“_You_ are amazing.” Loki felt someone’s lips brush against his but he hardly felt them, so lost was he in the most profound awe and the deepest love of all. His baby was alive, and so was he.

And for now, that was all that mattered.

“Promise me you will love him, Stephen.”

“I promise.”

This time when Stephen claimed his lips once more, Loki felt the promise behind every bruising kiss, every tender stroke of the tongue...and Loki returned every sweet kiss with a promise of his own, that one day he might just say the words out loud, that deep down...

Maybe, just maybe...

_I love you too._


	17. Chapter 17

“What are you doing up?”

“What’s it look like I’m doin’,” Loki mumbled through a mouthful of something that sounded awfully sticky and dense. “Tap dancing.”

Stephen looked at the clock again to make sure he was seeing the time right, not quite trusting the blackness of the sky outside. “At this ungodly hour?”

“Having a schedule for everything, what exciting lives you Midgardians must lead.”

“Loki, it's three o'clock in the morning. You’ll wreak havoc on your physiology, stuffing your face like that.”

“Tell that to your unborn son.” Loki viciously stabbed his spoon into the jar of peanut butter and scooped out what looked to Stephen to have to be almost half the jar. “Physiology?”

“There’s a reason why we do certain things at certain times, Loki.” Stephen followed the spoon all the way through its intended journey with his eyes; he grimaced as its content disappeared into Loki’s mouth. “It’s called a body clock. I assume you have one?”

“If I did, I must have disabled it centuries ago.” Loki licked the peanut butter off the back of the spoon and made a face. “This tastes horrible.”

Stephen took a seat across from Loki and carefully clasped his hands on the marble countertop. “Surely the cooks could have catered to your specific tastes, made you something a little…healthier?”

Loki’s eyes fell, as did his face and the spoon. “Not for what I wanted.”

Stephen was acutely aware of the potential hazard he was getting himself into, but he was simply too curious. “And that is?”

Loki took his time screwing the lid back on the jar before glumly answering, “I don’t know what it’s called.”

Stephen palmed his forehead in exasperation and hid a groan. It really was too early for this. “You don’t know what it’s called.”

“Nope.”

“Well…is it something that still exists anywhere on the face of this earth?”

Loki frowned. “It should. I saw that angry man make it on television just the other day.”

“Angry man?”

“The one who keeps calling everybody an idiot sandwich.” Loki held up two pieces of bread against the sides of his face. “Literally.”

Stephen could not help guffawing out loud, “Gordon _Ramsay?_”

“That’s the one.” Loki’s face brightened slightly at the sight of Stephen laughing. “All that emotion, all that rage, over a plate of food. His cooking must either be very good or absolutely horrendous.”

“Show me.”

“What?”

Stephen shrugged. “You’ve seen it. Show me what you want to eat.”

“You can’t cook.”

“Just because you haven’t seen me in action doesn’t mean I suck.”

Loki snickered. “You forget. I have seen the state of your kitchen after that baking attempt of yours.”

“That was all Thor, I’ll have you know – ”

“Gordon Ramsay would have yelled, ‘Keep your station clean, for heaven's sake!’

“Two chefs in one kitchen? Still one chef too many.”

Rocked with silent laughter, an unruly curl fell over Loki’s forehead. Despite the hour, the fog had cleared from Stephen’s head enough to stop him from reaching over to brush it out of Loki’s eyes.

“Show me,” Stephen repeated quietly.

Loki did not need telling twice for he really was quite hungry –

An image materialised out of thin air above their heads; if not for the tell-tale residue of seidr, Stephen would have thought it a holographic projection he could reach out with his fingers to touch. Not only did the dish look unbelievably corporeal and good enough to eat, he knew exactly what it was. “Eggs Benedict?”

Loki’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “You know it?”

“Not only do I know of it, I know how to make it.” A funny feeling stirred the pit of Stephen’s stomach. After all, he had seen Christine make it enough times it was the one dish he was confident he could emulate and make it restaurant-worthy.

He could see the hunger in Loki’s eyes and hear it in his voice, slightly garbled from what was surely sudden salivation. “Do you think we have enough ingredients to make it here?”

Stephen only remembered that his reaction could only be interpreted as hesitation, but it was too late for Loki’s face had fallen one more.

“We don’t,” Loki said flatly.

Stephen bit the inside of his lower lip, his reluctant “We do,” as unconvincing as it was unenthusiastic.

Loki looked and sounded crushed. “I don’t understand.”

“The recipe contains a few things that are not all that safe for pregnant women,” Stephen said apologetically. “The poached egg…”

“We have eggs,” Loki said stubbornly. “We source them directly from the – ”

“Farms, yes. Which means they are likely unpasteurised. And the Hollandaise sauce…that’s traditionally made with raw eggs too. I strongly advise against it.”

“Strange. I’ve consumed plenty of raw things before, things you never even knew existed. Raw eggs are hardly the strangest things I’ve eaten.”

“Not when you’re pregnant and risking salmonella.”

Loki buried his hands into the sides of his head and stifled his scream of frustration.

With a sigh, Stephen reached across the counter to untangle Loki’s fingers away from his temples. “Honestly, Loki…”

“All is lost…” Loki said mournfully. “You don’t know what it feels like, Strange.”

“I’m sure I don’t, but all is not lost.”

Loki peered through eyes shiny with unshed tears of longing and want.

Stephen’s quick thinking came to the rescue yet again. “If you can give me ten minutes, I’ll come back with some pasteurised eggs and powdered Hollandaise mix from the shops.”

Loki sniffled. “Won’t the shops be closed at this hour?”

“Not the ones in New York.”

Loki’s eyes lit up again like stars. “What are you still doing here then? Begone!”

Stephen laughed, and before he knew it, he was back once more in New Asgard, poaching an egg over the stove with an increasingly impatient Norse god breathing down his neck.

“What’s taking so long?” Loki moaned. “He’s very, very hungry…” A loud, rumbling sound emanated from somewhere in the region of his belly, “And very, very angry.”

“Hush. You can’t rush this,” Stephen reprimanded as he whisked the egg yolks and lemon juice together carefully over very low heat. “Overcook it and it’s ruined.”

But Stephen was only teasing, for the sauce was just about done. He popped the English muffin halves out of the toaster, carefully slid the poached eggs on before drizzling the glistening Hollandaise sauce to form a golden coat over the dish.

“And voila,” Stephen said proudly, presenting his creation before his lone, very special diner.

“I think I love you,” Loki sighed happily.

Stephen lifted an eyebrow. “If I knew it’d be this easy…”

A touch of crimson blushed Loki’s cheeks. “Shut up.”

In a matter of minutes, he had scoffed down half the dish; Stephen could only take that as a sign that he still had it in him as an amateur cook. “Good?”

“It tastes better than I expected,” Loki said grudgingly. The tip of his tongue darted out to delicately lick a spot of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “I’m not sharing.”

Stephen busied himself loading the dirty dishes into the sink, but he needed not have bothered hiding his smug smile; Loki was too preoccupied with scraping the sauce from the plate with the last of his muffin.

Loki hummed appreciatively before soundlessly placing the used cutleries in a neat pile on his empty plate.

“That has got to be the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone eat my cooking,” Stephen commented in a casual tone, but his beaming face said otherwise.

“It was surprisingly good,” Loki purred. The sleepiness was creeping back in his voice now that his belly was full and his craving sated. “I wonder how it compares to the Angry Man’s. He puts crispy parma ham in his.”

Stephen made a face. “Mine’s definitely better. No one makes better Eggs Benedict than New Yorkers.”

“I am inclined to believe you, Doctor.”

Be it the witching hour, or the steam rising from the sink fast filling with hot water, Loki’s shining ‘my hero’ eyes had never looked brighter to Stephen, and his mortal heart gave a flip.

“Thanks, Loki,” he managed to say.

“No, thank _you_.” Loki slowly rose from his seat and ambled around the kitchen island to where Stephen was standing stock-still by the sink, hands still unwashed. He lifted them just in time to make way for Loki’s arms as they snaked around his waist.

“Thank you,” Loki repeated, planting a soft kiss on Stephen’s lips, as soft as the feel of Loki’s belly pressed against his own stomach. “We’re both very grateful.”

To think that just a week ago Loki was laid up unconscious, life hanging in the balance…Stephen chased all the black thoughts away, focusing only on the warmth of Loki’s body.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, relishing in the tangy taste of Loki’s lips. “Once you’ve had the baby, I’ll make you a proper one.”

“With the crispy ham?”

Stephen rolled his eyes at the hopeful lilt in Loki’s voice. “With the ham, sure.”

“Lunch is on me,” Loki announced.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

_____________________________________

“This is not what I had in mind when you told me you were buying lunch.”

“You need to work on your listening skills, Stephen. I never said anything about buying.”

“As opposed to catching, you mean.”

“Correct.” Upon finding a rock to sit on, Loki reached down to take off his boots and was surprised to find how breathless the simple act of unlacing them made him feel. He straightened up to take a breather, when Stephen suddenly dropped to one knee before him. “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like I’m doing,” Stephen mumbled. “Sunbathing.”

Loki watched the sunlight dance across the sharp planes of Stephen’s face as he struggled with all the intricate fastenings and straps on Loki’s leather boots. Against his will, Loki felt his lips curl upward. “I bet people used to laugh at your jokes.”

Having successfully removed both Loki’s knee-high boots, Stephen lined them up neatly side by side against the rock Loki was already pushing himself off.

“Only the ones who worked for me,” Stephen said lightly, returning Loki’s wry smile with a soft, albeit slightly worried one of his own. “You sure you know what you’re doing?”

Loki did not answer. His bare white feet tracked a well-trodden path toward the bank of the Gaula River.

“I’m going to regret this,” Stephen muttered under his breath, and proceeded to take off his own gloves. 

Loki halted in his steps when he felt the heat of someone following him from behind. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going in with you.”

“Have you any experience spearfishing?”

“No.”

“So of what use do you think you will be to me should you join me in the water?”

Stephen refrained from saying the first thing that came to mind; he doubted it would bode well with Loki’s sense of independence, if not his self-preservation.

“I will be fine, Stephen. I can do this in my sleep,” Loki said irritably, shooing him away with an imperious wave of his hand.

“Do us a favour and light a fire, would you? I will be done before you know it.” He peered curiously into Stephen’s face. “You...do know how to light a fire?”

“Please. You’re not the only one with basic survival skills around here,” Stephen scoffed, hoping that the many hours spent semi-watching Man Vs Wild with Wong would swing things in his favour for once. Of course, he could always cheat and start a fire with magic but...that would only inflict another blow to his wounded pride.

Bear Grylls, don’t let me down, he prayed silently as he scanned the grounds for flints and anything he could use as material for his tinder nest. If only his concentration was not disturbed every few seconds to look in the direction of the river…

Be careful, Stephen wanted to say and almost did say. Instead, he murmured under his breath, “Go on.”

The Cloak of Levitation lifted off his back, flew over to where Loki was already entering the water, and settled around a startled Loki’s shoulders.

Loki twisted his head to growl and scowl. “Really, Strange?”

“Just a precaution. Some of the rocks look awfully slippery.”

Loki rolled his eyes.

“How much further are you gonna go?” Stephen said, growing more and more uneasy as Loki waded into deeper and deeper waters.

“You can have your Cloak back if you want,” Loki said coolly. “She’s going to get wet.”

“That’s the least of my worries,” Stephen muttered as Loki’s upper body gradually disappear underneath the ripples of rushing water. “You know we can easily buy whatever you want from the fishmongers.”

“It’s faster this way.”

“Really?” Stephen asked sceptically.

“And fresher.” Loki was already salivating at the thought. “Nothing beats fish caught by your own hands.”

Loki was now neck-deep in frigid water, the Cloak billowing around him and having the time of its life. It led Stephen to wonder as to when the last time the Cloak of Levitation had a wash, or if it ever had one.

Half a minute later, only Loki’s high forehead remained visible above the water and Stephen could not take it anymore.

He discarded the useless rocks he had been trying to get sparks out of for the past five minutes and lit the tinder nest on fire with a touch of Eldritch magic. However, before he could take matters into his own hand and haul Loki’s ass out of the water, the Cloak suddenly broke the surface of the river.

It lifted Loki bodily out of the water and gracefully deposited him onto a boulder a few feet away, closer to the bank on the other side of the river than the one they had entered the water from.

“You alright?” Stephen yelled, struggling to make himself heard over the sound of roaring water.

“Never better!” Loki yelled right back. He may be soaking wet from head to toe but he looked nothing but majestic as sunlight glinted off his black hair, clinging to his face and neck like seaweed.

“You wanna come back over to this side?” Stephen hollered.

“You must be joking.” Loki snorted. “Look!”

A silver-scaled fish jumped out of the water, right where Loki had himself re-emerged just seconds ago, then another one, and another one; Loki’s eyes danced with delight as the school of wild salmon appeared on the surface as if summoned, swimming against the current up-stream.

A long spear appeared in Loki's hand, its pointy tip twinkling in the sun.

With deadly precision, he launched the spear into the water.

Stephen was not at all surprised to see Loki’s first catch impaled through the tip of his spear. Like a boss, Loki plucked the wriggling fish free and tossed it onto a flattened surface of the rock at his feet.

With a fluid motion, Loki rose to his full height again, spear high above his head, eyes staring dead ahead at his target.

“God, I am so turned on right now,” Stephen said to himself, glad for once that he was out of earshot.

Once Loki had caught enough salmon to feed an army, he transported his catch of the day with the help of the Cloak back to where Stephen was waiting by the fire.

“Wow.” Stephen tried not to sound too impressed but failed miserably. “You’ve got mad skills.”

Now completely dry and dressed in a fresh change of clothes, Loki only gave him a funny look. “Didn’t your father ever take you hunting?”

Taken aback by such an unexpected question, Stephen had to think for a moment. “He took us to Yellowstone and up the Rockies in an RV once but I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

Loki hummed noncommittally and got down on one knee. He produced a dagger from somewhere behind him and was about to reach for the fish nearest to him when something stopped him short.

He stared at the pile of freshly caught Atlantic salmon on the ground, and suddenly the excitement seemed to leave Loki all at once.

“I can’t do this.” The light had visibly left Loki’s eyes, the joy his voice.

“I’ll do it,” Stephen said quietly. He held out his hand, half-expecting Loki to refuse handing over his precious dagger, but soon his palm tingled with the weight of Loki’s prized weapon and its resting magic.

“Why don’t you sit down and rest while I prepare our lunch?”

Loki only stared at him with eyes haunted by centuries of memories and relived terror. There was an unspeakable pain hidden there too, but Stephen did not wish to intrude too much, not until Loki was ready.

Stephen turned his back slightly to shield Loki from what he was about to do; he may not know how to spear a fish, but he certainly knew how to gut and fillet one.

An hour later, they were sitting shoulder to shoulder on the bank of the river, pleasantly full from a simple yet delicious meal of grilled fish, when Loki suddenly broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, Stephen.”

“Hmm?” Reverie broken, Stephen lifted his head and turned to look. “What is it, Loki?”

“I thought I…I was hoping I did not fear the water anymore.”

The words uttered may be brave, but the voice was painfully small.

“Was it Amora who betrayed you?”

If Loki was surprised by Stephen’s meagre knowledge of his past, he did not show it.

Shaking his head slowly, he unconsciously shifted more of his weight against his human lover as though to seek comfort and courage in company. “It was Lorelei. Her sister.”

“She had wanted to usurp Karnilla, the Norn Queen, also known as Odin’s Head Sorceress, the wielder of power and wealth unimaginable.”

The sun was suddenly too bright, and Loki abruptly closed his eyes. “Power Lorelei did not possess, she sought to harness from me, and my unborn daughter. Sacrificed to the turbulent waters of Franangrsfors.”

Stephen’s throat suddenly felt as tight as a noose. “Where is she now?”

“Hel, I imagine. If she hadn’t made her escape already,” Loki winced. “Just – never mention her name around Thor. He would go berserk.”

“That bad, huh.”

“So…” Loki cleared his throat. “Thank you. I know you didn’t have to be here.”

“You need to get it out of your head that it is duty that keeps me here.”

“Is it not?”

Stephen watched a stray leaf float down gently down the stream. “We’ve had this conversation before, Loki.”

Loki followed the same leaf until it disappeared, swiftly swallowed by the very funnel of water where he had stumbled upon his cache of wild salmon.

“We are hardly right for each other, Strange.”

“It isn’t about finding the right person.”

“It…isn’t?”

Stephen shook his head. “They don’t exist.”

“That’s a cheerful thought.”

Stephen crossed his arms upon his knees and propped his chin on his forearm. “Love is a decision. It is about learning to love the person you found.”

Loki found himself unable to think, let alone speak. How so? He wanted to ask, but the words died in his throat. 

Stephen’s body heat was searing him through the thin layer of his tunic.

_Learning to love the person you found. _

“Is it so inconceivable that someone should tell you they loved you?”

Loki’s breath blew past his lips in a thin, sharp whistle. 

“It is when I’ve lived for over a thousand years and have yet to meet someone who actually meant it. And even then, they certainly did not say it within the first few months of our meeting each other.”

Stephen shrugged. “Love isn’t always on time.”

“Sounds like a cheesy line from a movie.”

“A song, actually.”

“You need to sing it to me one day, then.”

“I only sing to people on very special occasions, Odinson.”

“Weddings or funerals?” The look on Loki’s face turned oddly thoughtful. “If it’s the latter, that can easily be arranged.”

The long stretch of silence that followed was finally broken by a flat, “Do people actually laugh at your jokes?”

Aware of the frosty stare trained his way, a suddenly dim-eyed Loki returned it with a listless “Once upon a time.” He abruptly stiffened. “Stephen.”

Stephen frowned. “What is it?”

“When the time comes...” Loki’s voice trailed off, before gaining a last spurt of courage. “You can’t let Thor - you can't let him see.”

“See what?” Stephen’s eyes dropped to the protective arm Loki held around his middle. “The birth? Loki, if it’s privacy you’re worried about...”

“No.” Loki inhaled deeply, trying to gather what was left of his resolve. “If things go bad.”

Stephen’s voice hardened, his eyes darkened. “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“Come now, Doctor,” Loki chided. “I would think this goes beyond wishful thinking, don’t you?” Without waiting for Stephen to respond, “With your experience as a Healer, not to mention your gift of foresight and that thing around your neck, you would give me false reassurances?”

Stephen must have made a sound, but it sounded so distant, like a fading memory. How two people could be sitting next to each other and still be thousands of miles apart.

Loki shook his head in distaste. “I do not seek to know what you see, Doctor. It matters little to me what secrets of the future you are privy to, when there is only one reality that will come to pass.”

He threw his head back and raised his face to the heavens. “And neither you nor I can tell which of the millions of possible futures it is.”

Stephen looked up to the sky and wondered what it was Loki was seeing with his Mind’s eye.

A series of little steps, a string of decisions, big and small…all leading to that one true destiny.

“Do you want me to tell you what I see?” Stephen asked quietly.

“I know you can’t even if you wanted to,” Loki said serenely. “But thank you for asking. It is very seldom anyone afforded me such courtesy.”

Stephen nodded tersely and said nothing.

Loki lowered his head slowly and returned his attention to the water, where it rightfully belonged.

“I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” he whispered.

“You don’t need to be, Loki,” Stephen said forcefully, imploringly. “Not with me here.”

“I do not know if I can ever say the words,” Loki finally confessed.

“It isn’t about saying it back, Loki,” he heard Stephen’s gentle words, felt an even gentler hand against the side of his head pull him onto a strong shoulder, stronger than any Loki had ever had the privilege of resting his head on.

_Dare he hope? That this man…this mortal man could finally be the one? _

Gentle lips brushed against his temple, nearly drowning out Stephen’s last words that finally answered Loki’s question.

“Love never is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lines Stephen was romancing Loki with came from Toto's 'Hold The Line' (Love Isn't Always On Time).
> 
> Sorry for the wait. I was stuck in the worst writer's block I've had in a long time.
> 
> Come join our discord server [FrostStrange Sanctum](https://discord.gg/VRTCfCM) if you're a fellow Strangefrostaholic!


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beautiful artwork featured in this chapter has been gifted to me by the lovely [Sherl8ckWat2on](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherl8ckWat2on/pseuds/Sherl8ckWat2on) and can be found on this [post](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23505421/chapters/56366593). It's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me, and I don't deserve you. This chapter is for you.

[ ](https://ibb.co/0t1NpSv)  
A Villa in France, Cherry Trees and Sunflowers  
Painting, Acrylic and Watercolor  
by Sherl8ckWat2on 

“So have you and the wizard sorted it all out yet?”

“Sorted what out?”

“The arrangements. Once the child arrives.”

Loki studiously avoided looking in his brother’s general direction for fear of making accidental eye contact. “We don’t even know when that is.”

Thor eyed Loki’s middle. “The last time you were showing this much it didn’t take very long after.”

“Oh, do shut up,” Loki said, visibly irritated. He was still trying to convince himself that the giant beach ball he seemed to have swallowed in his sleep was purely a product of an over-active imagination. That, or he was still bloated from all the fish he had barely touched for lunch.

“I know it can’t be easy but you have to talk to him sooner or later.”

“We talk,” Loki said vaguely. “Just…not about that.”

“If the child is to be raised here, preparations need to be made. Your living quarters are simply too small to raise a family, so we may be looking to move you somewhere bigger.” Thor tapped a finger on his armrest, a thoughtful look on his face. “But if you’d rather stay where you are, the expansion works have to start now.”

“Thor.”

“As for childcare, I have been asking around and a few names have come up, but if you do not wish to employ someone locally, there is a college abroad that apparently produces excellent au pairs, Norland Nannies I think they’re called – ”

“Thor,” Loki interrupted sharply. “I am going to stop you right there. Kindly do not presume to dictate to me on the choices of parenting.”

To his credit, Thor remained as cool as a cucumber. “Oh, I wouldn’t dare to. I am asking in the capacity of a brother, not as a King,” only to retract it a second later. “But that too, in a way.”

If Loki’s eyes could shoot daggers, they would.

“I am only asking to then figure out ways on how to best support you and your decisions.”

And the daggers lost some of their bite.

“I thank you for your concern, Brother, but surely you have enough on your plate without going to all this trouble doing my thinking for me,” Loki said, his words softer yet still preserved of their razor-sharp lustre.

“Oh, it is no trouble at all,” Thor said coolly. He dared Loki with a hard stare. “We look out for each other, don’t we?”

A short eternity passed very, very slowly. The events of recent years seemed to have taught Thor the very meaning of patience. Loki wished he could say the same for himself.

“Stephen and I are taking things one day at a time,” he finally said.

“And one of these days, that too will come to an end.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Loki snapped.

“I have been told that his work at the conservatory is near completion.” Thor waited a few seconds for his words to sink in, before going in for the kill. “I can only assume he will return to his duties in America once he is done. What will you do when he leaves?”

“What I have always done,” Loki said tightly. “I don’t see how one stops breathing just because a temporary arrangement comes to an end.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a knack of putting people at ease and at the same time, great discomfort?”

“I do beg your pardon, Majesty. I shall remove myself from your presence at once before I cause further offense.”

Loki made to push himself off his chair, when Thor stopped him with a soft but very firm, “Sit down. We are not finished.”

The hair on the back of Loki’s neck bristled as he fought down an almost-overwhelming wave of fury. “Oh?”

“You are skirting the issue.” Thor’s eyes narrowed. “That means you _have_ thought about it.”

_Of course_ I have, Loki wanted to scream, but losing his composure simply would not do.

“I am only worried about you, Loki,” Thor stressed, patience fast giving way to exasperation and agitation the longer Loki remained stubbornly silent. “Surely you understand that.”

“What do you want me to say, Thor?” Loki asked quietly. “Whether he stays or goes, that is not up to me to decide. Surely _you_ understand that.”

Thor studied his brother’s profile, dark and sullen now that the shadows had finally descended to engulf his dark brother whole as they had done so many times before.

This Loki gave answers, and boy, did Thor have questions for him.

“Has he told you when?”

“No.”

“Are you going to stop him?”

“No.”

“And the baby?”

“What about the baby?”

“Will you be raising it together?”

Loki met Thor’s probing stare head-on. “That is the plan, yes.”

That seemed to satisfy Thor who suddenly leaned back in his seat as though a heavy weight had lifted off his shoulders.

“Will you be alright?”

The moment it left his mouth, Thor knew it was the wrong question to ask. True enough, the shield went up as quickly as it had come down.

“I’m always alright,” Loki said easily, his smile wide but false through and through.

“And I’m always here,” Thor countered, saying the only thing he could think of that might just catch Loki off-guard again. “I hope you know that.”

Whatever this Stephen Strange decided to do, it changed nothing for Thor. Loki was still his brother, and Thor had his own set of promises to adhere to. “I will never leave you.”

Loki’s smile may not be as wide as before, but its wistfulness was reminiscent of the good old days when they were once children and happy and full of hope for the future. “I remember.”

There were many kinds of silence, and there was none other that comforted and irked Thor in equal measure as one weighed down by awkward amity. Loki too, looked ready to bolt for the door at the first chance he could.

“What about Thor?” Thor mulled.

“Excuse me?”

“In case you’re still looking for a name. Thor has a nice ring to it.” Thor’s lopsided grin matched the twinkle in his mismatched eyes in all its asymmetrical perfection. “It is a custom on Midgard to name babes after one’s close relatives, I believe.”

“Don’t these ‘close’ relatives have to die first before they deserve such honour?” Loki asked lightly.

Thor pawed his chest. “You wound me, Brother.”

“Well, I suppose I should leave you to your Kingly business.” Loki rose from his seat. “I have taken more of your time than I should.”

“We can trade places if you want.”

Loki smoothed a hand over the front of his tunic. His tall, slender frame could only hide the bump for so long. Maybe Thor was right after all.

“You know…I know a spell that might just work. I go through your paperwork, in exchange for magical surrogacy. I could use a break from all these aches and pains and the never-ending need for the loo.”

Thor laughed. “Get out of here.”

______________________________________

“Prince Loki.” The flustered young man nearly dropped a tray of bedding plants in various stages of growth on his own foot at the sight of the prince standing at the main door of the greenhouse. “Forgive me, Sire, I did not know you were coming – ”

“At ease, Boy. I am come here only to avail myself of some fresh air and sunlight. Best be on your way, that looks mighty heavy.”

Johannes bowed in embarrassed gratitude when Loki caught one end of the tray that was tilting dangerously, righting its position so it was upright once more. “Shall I get Doctor Strange for you, Sire? I think he is somewhere in the back in the aeroponics section – ”

“It’s alright,” Loki declined. “No need to bother him if he’s busy.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Say, Johannes…”

“Yes, my Prince?”

“How has it been for you, working with the Sorcerer Supreme?”

“We couldn’t have asked for a better adviser, Sire. His knowledge of the land far surpasses ours, for he is of Midgard. And his magic is nothing we have ever seen, everything he touches comes to life, and he could turn the most barren land fertile and ripe for the picking in half the time. It will be a great shame once he leaves.”

Loki’s heart flipped. “He…has mentioned leaving to you?”

Johannes looked uncomfortable now, as though only realising that he had run off at the mouth – but Prince Loki had that effect with most everybody! “N-no, not in so many words, my Prince. Only that he is working long hours, sometimes deep into the night, for he fears being called away when there is still much to be done.”

“And is there still?” Loki asked. “Much to be done?”

“Oh no, Your Highness,” Johannes beamed. “We are at the final stages now, I dare say we are well on our way to becoming self-sufficient with regard to food production, all thanks to Doctor Strange.”

Under normal circumstances, seeing such bright optimism on a fellow Asgardian’s face after years of uncertainty for want of subsistence would have brought a smile to Loki’s face, but now it only made Loki’s stomach twist in knots.

“Run along now, Johannes,” he said dimly, barely aware of the boy scurrying off as if the ground itself was splitting open.

Truth be told, Loki felt as though the earth beneath his feet was doing just that, threatening to swallow him whole, piths and all. The fresh air hung stale and stagnant, the sunlight all but dispersed by the billows of grey clouds that had suddenly appeared over his head, as heavy as the leaden weight in his heart.

Loki forced himself to breathe, just like he promised Thor he would.

_Breathe, and you will be fine._

______________________________________

Now that he knew Loki was likely to eat more of his home cooking than the usual fancy fare from Asgard’s kitchens, Stephen took it upon himself to prove his mettle as an amateur cook. Dinner was a light affair of flaky, honey-glazed salmon and fresh asparagus from the gardens (which turned out delicious, if he may say so himself) but for some reason, Loki’s appetite was nowhere to be found.

“You okay?” Stephen asked when he could no longer stand the sight of Loki spearing the same piece of asparagus for the hundredth time.

“Hmm?”

“You’re barely eating.” Stephen gestured at Loki’s plate. “Food not to your liking?”

“It’s delicious, Stephen. Thank you.” Loki forced down a sliver of self-caught salmon. For something that smelled so good, it tasted like ash in his mouth.

“Not hungry?” Stephen guessed. “You look tired.”

“Guess I’m still full from lunch.”

“Wanna watch a movie together after dinner?”

“I’m afraid I have to decline, Stephen. I really am quite tired.”

But Loki did stay up for a while to keep him company, long enough for Stephen to read a couple of chapters from a spell book from Loki’s own collection. Asgardian magic was such a foreign concept to him, and not much of what he read made sense, but that could be attributed to what could have been lost in translation…or the practice of seidr was just a different, unexplored branch of magic, just like astrophysics was a different branch of science from medicine. 

It made for an interesting read, though. Stephen doubted he would have been granted access to something so coveted had he been anyone else.

In comparison, Loki had barely turned the pages of the novel he was only pretending to read, a novel Stephen had brought with him from New York and been meaning to read but never found the time. ‘When Breath Becomes Air’ it was called, a poignant memoir of an American neurosurgeon battling Stage IV lung cancer, published posthumously. Judging from the deep frown Loki had been wearing since after dinner, maybe Stephen should have loaned something lighter for bedtime reading instead.

Stephen closed the spell book with a neat, sharp click.

“I’m turning in.” The invitation in his voice could not be any clearer. _You coming?_

Loki looked up from his book. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

The smile on his tight face looked forced, with none of its brightness reaching his dull green eyes. Something was bothering Loki, that much was obvious.

The minute promised him stretched into five, then ten, and by the time Stephen opened his eyes again, he realised he had dozed off for an unknown length of time, judging by the pitch blackness of the room and the heat of someone’s body on the bed next to him.

Loki made a noise, and Stephen smiled to himself. He had never caught Loki snoring, but he always had a suspicion it was concealment by magic rather than impeccable sleep hygiene.

Stephen cleared his thoughts and tried to ease back into sleep once more when he heard the sound again. It was a low hiss, a sound Stephen was fortunate enough not to hear very often for it was enough to erase all traces of fog from his sleep-addled brain.

“Loki?” He turned his head sideways but the shadows of the night shrouded the room and all it contained. His lover’s shallow pants for breath were the only indication that he was not the only one wide awake. “You alright?”

“Hhnn.” It was neither a yes nor a no, and definitely a cause of great worry in itself.

Stephen waved a hand and a split second later, a dim light from the bedside table lamp bathed them in swaths of warm sepia. His alarm grew at the sight of Loki’s pale, pinched face. “What’s the matter?”

Loki shook his head, his voice tight and clipped. “Our child is very restless tonight. It is causing me considerable pain.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Stephen admonished, sounding more irritable than he intended. He knew Loki was far enough along to be feeling the baby move, but never to the extent of causing actual pain.

“You’re awake now, aren’t you?” Loki said snappishly.

Stephen threw back the covers and coaxed Loki’s hands away from his abdomen.

In both consternation and sympathy, he watched as another movement from the baby cascaded down Loki’s taut belly like a wave breaking the surface of seawater. One needed only to take in the sudden blanching of his face and the stream of expletives that followed now that Stephen was awake and there was finally someone for Loki to curse at, to know that Loki was in some serious pain.

“Feels like knives inside of me,” Loki gasped. “Am I in labour?”

Stephen shook his head. He felt no contractions underneath his hands, only soft, yielding flesh, which in itself was no reason to worry and should have been reassuring…had it not been for the searing heat that was radiating off Loki in waves.

Stephen frowned deeply. Loki had been perfectly fine before he retired to bed, if only a little tired after their short excursion into the beautiful wilderness.

A hand left Loki’s belly and flew upward to grasp a dry, hot forehead. “You feel like a furnace. How long have you been feeling unwell?”

“I don’t. I just feel a little warm.”

“Well, you’re overheating for some reason.”

“I got every bit of Mordo’s poison out the last time…” Loki blinked blearily out of slightly off-focused eyes. “I made sure of it.”

“No, it’s not that…” Stephen said slowly but his mind was racing. “Has this ever happened to you before?”

“Once.”

“What made you feel better then?”

“The Franangrsfors,” Loki recalled. If he closed his eyes, he could picture the majestic beauty of the waterfall, the sound of roaring water – he quickly reopened his eyes before the sound could, as it so often would in his dreams, turn into his Mother’s screams.

As much as he longed to hear her voice once more, her screams of agony were an exception. As the blood drained out of him then, his hearing had been one of the last senses to go after all.

“Mother told me I may have unconsciously sought refuge in the icy waters of Franangrsfors because of the baby’s constitution.”

“Water. Got it.” It makes total sense, Stephen thought as he found himself running a cold bath in the tub a few seconds later. If tepid sponging could help bring a child’s fever down, then maybe it could work with Loki too. 

“What are you doing?” Loki asked dimly as Stephen helped him out of his clothes and out of bed.

“We need to get your temperature down.”

It did not help matters that Loki’s erratic magic was warring with the baby’s half-human physiology for dominance over Loki’s homeostasis. Stephen realised that he may have been too optimistic when the ice-cold water turned tepid, before becoming actually warm in a matter of minutes after dunking Loki in it.

“The tub’s not big enough.” He needed to take Loki elsewhere. But where? The Gaula? The swimming pool down by the main courtyard?

As if he could read Stephen’s mind, Loki was quick to shake his head. “I do not wish to be seen. Not like this.”

“That’s not very likely, Loki, not at this hour.”

“Stephen, please.” Loki’s head dropped to his chest. He could feel the child getting restless again, body and limbs writhing deep inside him like a pit of vipers, now that the water was rising in temperature once again. “Eyes…Enemies. Everywhere. I won’t let them have him.”

“Shh,” Stephen soothed. The heat was getting to Loki’s head now, he was not making any sense – or was he? “No one’s going to get him. Not with me here.”

Stephen’s words, as comforting as he had intended them to be, only seemed to agitate Loki further who began to moan and thrash in the water. With the Cloak’s help, Stephen managed to gather Loki’s flailing limbs and fished his semi-delirious lover out of the tub before securing him in Levi, the makeshift drag blanket. “You got him?”

The Cloak’s lapels twitched in an affirmative gesture equivalent to a nod. Stephen hastily opened up a portal, and a gust of cold air blew into his face, bringing with it the sweet scent of lavender.

The night sky in Provence was just as clear as it was back in Norway, and almost as though the constellations were anticipating their arrival, the light cast by the full moon illuminated the garden path where the hastily-conjured portal had opened up onto.

“Where are we?” Loki murmured. “Smells…different.”

“My house.”

Loki poked his head out from under the smothering layers of ancient fabric and took in the familiar surroundings, the momentary lucidity allowing for the first surge of trepidation to flood his befuddled mind. “Provence?”

Stephen had already undressed, stripping down to his boxers. He jumped into the pool, suppressing a shiver at the first bite of ice-cold water. “Levi. Give him to me.”

The Cloak relinquished his cargo over to its Master, getting itself wet in return but it did not seem to mind. At the sudden loss of heat, Loki began to flail again. “Stephen? Wh-what – ” A gasp of breath escaped as the lower half of his body hit the water. “Where are my clothes?”

With both arms wrapped securely around Loki’s waist, Stephen carefully lowered them both deeper until they were neck-deep in the frigid water. “Shh. Just try and relax. You’re burning up.”

The result was instantaneous. Loki’s rigid, fever-locked limbs began to yield. A minute later, they were pliant and enough to return Stephen’s embrace, and Stephen felt a rush of relief wash over him.

“Does that feel better?” he murmured.

Loki nodded once into his shoulder.

“And the baby?” Stephen’s chest was still tight with anxiety. The cold was not helping him breathe easier either.

“Calmer,” Loki breathed a sigh of relief. “The pain is gone.”

The tight vise released its jaws around Stephen’s torso; with the sudden release of pressure, a gust of air rushed into his lungs and he wasted no time pulling Loki in closer. “You gotta stop doing this to me.”

“What, a midnight swim in the nude not on your list of buckets?” The tease was finally returning to Loki’s voice.

Stephen had to stop and think. “It’s called a bucket list, Loki.”

“Why is it called that?”

“It’s from a movie. About two terminally-ill men going on a trip together with a wish list to fill before they ‘kick the bucket’.”

“How morbidly fascinating,” Loki murmured. “We should watch it sometime.”

“Finally something we can both agree on,” Stephen said dryly. Then he shuddered. “You scared the hell out of me, Odinson.”

“Sorry,” Loki mumbled. “Didn’t mean to.”

Stephen accepted the apology with a quick kiss to Loki’s forehead, satisfied that it was no longer burning under his lips. He could feel the deep furrows in it though.

“What are you thinking?”

“That she should have told me right then and there what I was.”

_She?_

“Your Mother?”

Loki’s silence was deafening.

“What you were?” Stephen pressed.

The sharp tip of Loki’s chin dug into Stephen’s shoulder again as he nodded. “And why I was so different from everybody.”

“Not the word I’d use,” Stephen said coolly.

Loki pulled his head back slightly. “Yeah?”

“Exceptional. One of a kind.” Stephen caught Loki’s ajar lips in an impulsive kiss. “Special.”

Stunned, Loki tried to think of something to say, to return the affection in kind, but the pensive look on his human lover’s face skewed the moonlight playing across the high planes of his cheekbones.

“What are _you_ thinking?”

With his attention restored, the moonlight left his cheeks to illuminate Stephen’s eyes. “I’m trying to think of the reason why you got sick all of a sudden.”

Loki shrank backward and seemed to sink deeper into the water.

“What is it?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Doctor – ”

“Stop that. Tell me.”

Loki’s fingers curled around the curve of Stephen’s shoulders.

“Just something Thor said. It got me thinking.” Loki added, as an afterthought. “Thinking too hard.”

“You mean...stressed you out?”

“In today’s language, I suppose, yes.”

“Well, what did he say?”

Loki stiffened in Stephen’s arms. He certainly was not expecting Stephen to take him at his word, not outright at least – “You believe me?”

“Just because something is psychosomatic, doesn’t mean it’s any less real.” Stephen tipped his head at their surroundings. “I think we both can attest to that.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means, whatever hurts you here – ” Stephen bumped his forehead into Loki’s, and a hand moved from the small of Loki’s back to cradle the side of Loki’s belly, “Can also hurt you here.”

Loki grew quiet. When the chorus of cicadas grew too loud in offering their night song to the moon, Loki knew he had to speak. He owed Stephen that much.

“He told me your spell work with the crops is nearly done and that you’d be leaving soon.”

Stephen’s grey eyes instantly hardened. “I’m going to kill him.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but it isn’t exactly something I wasn’t expecting. You said so yourself, that you would return to New York once you have seen me settled in.”

Loki’s heavy sigh bristled the hair on the side of Stephen’s head. “It is only my wishful thinking that wishes to keep you here.”

_In my arms_.

Loki threw his head back and let the water take the weight of his wet locks off his scalp as they floated around him like a medusa. He felt Stephen’s hand automatically ride up his back to better support his neck and Loki felt his eyes sting.

How could he justify embracing all these tender gestures? He could not think of one good thing he had done in his life to deserve this.

Loki closed his eyes and let the water take the tears away too.

Be it the lifting of the fever or the clearing of his vision, Loki was finally able to make out the constellations above their heads.

A vague memory of naming each and every one of them (or in Theo’s case, trying to, for London was filled with smog even back then) came in a rush of colours and smells and sounds.

And here Loki was, recreating the same memory but the building blocks were not the same. They were no less beautiful; the midnight blue of Provence made the stars gleam gold and resplendent, uncowering under the full bloom of the moon. The night song of the cicadas hummed high and low as the wind carried with it the smells of pine and juniper from the spring of Vaucluse itself.

Oh look, the Star of Arcady!

The brightest star in the Ursa Minor constellation looked different here on Earth from how it once looked when viewed upon from the Bifrost, and the memory of Asgard blighted all excitement in an instant.

The Battle between Two Brothers on the Bifrost felt like it happened centuries ago, but Loki remembered what he said to Thor in his fit of madness…every single word.

_What happened on Earth to turn you so SOFT? _

Thor, for all his goodness and worthiness, was still denied his chance of happiness.

Loki looked at the man who was holding him so tightly despite the tremor of his hands, now made ten times worse by the ice-cold water.

And suddenly Loki understood.

A selfish being like him, did not belong with a man as tender and as good as Stephen, no matter how much Loki truly and deeply loved him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Loki asked quietly.

“Tell you what?”

“That you were leaving?”

“I wasn’t ready to.”

“Surely it’s not that hard, we see each other every day.”

“No, not that. I wasn’t – ” Stephen hesitated. “I am not ready to leave.”

Loki’s eyes filled. _“Neither am I.”_

Stephen did not remember the last time they used Mindspeak to communicate, but sometimes there was simply no substitute.

_“I cannot promise to stay.”_ The grief was palpable in the way Stephen cupped Loki’s cheek.

A tear collected in the groove between Stephen’s thumb and index finger, mingling with the water. Damn this fever. _“I know.”_

_“But I promise I will come to you. Whenever you need me.” _

Stephen tried his best to thumb the tears away, but the more Loki nodded his head in lieu of speaking, the faster they fell. _“I will come to you.”_

_“Thank you.”_

They kissed again, and again, until the salt disappeared from their tongues, the wetness from their faces.

_Thank you._

Loki did not know how long they stayed underwater, so comfortable was he in the soothing caress of gentle water, but he was finally roused out of his stupor when the violent trembling of Stephen’s body disturbed the placid water around him enough that it rippled the surface –

Loki stilled the chattering of Stephen’s teeth with a quick kiss on his worryingly bluish lips. “Let’s get you out of the water before you catch a cold.”

Stephen barked a shaky laughter. “Moments ago _you_ were the one shaking like a leaf. I thought you were going to go into a seizure.”

“What can I say. I recover quickly,” Loki said simply. He slipped out of Stephen’s arms and swam to the edge, hoisting himself out of the pool with ease. He held out a hand expectantly, waiting for Stephen to take it.

Stephen could only stare at it in amazement. The strength in Loki’s grip as he pulled him out of the water was a far cry from the quivering, fever-ravaged tangle of limbs and sweat-sodden sheets Stephen had dragged half-way across the world not an hour ago.

“You’re really feeling okay?” Stephen asked dubiously as The Cloak patted him dry.

Shaking the water out of his long hair, Loki let it cascade down his back as he wrapped a robe conjured by magic around himself. He closed his eyes and listened to his body. The child was sleeping, soothed at long last. There was a lingering but not uncomfortable ache in his muscles, like one would inevitably get after an invigorating swim or run.

And his head was the clearest it had been in days…weeks even. And it was all thanks to the man standing in front of him.

“Yes, Stephen. I am.” Loki opened his eyes again and the first thing he saw was the stunning cobblestone house looming before him beyond the pool and terrace garden. The last time he was here he had been such a rude guest he did not take even a moment to appreciate just how beautiful the house was.

It looked just as magnificent in the dark of the night as it did in the brilliance of day, haunting and full of secrets.

As haunting as the ghostly laughter of children he could just make out if he stared at the dark windows hard enough –

He tuned the laughter out for as beautiful as it was, he could not listen to it too long.

“You ready?” he heard Stephen ask.

_Is it you I’m hearing? Or our future children?_

“I’m ready,” Loki said softly.

The portal opened onto the main palace courtyard where the complex diverged into two separate annexes: the East wing where the royal family lived, and the West, where guests of the Crown stayed.

Never had Loki longed to step back into the portal so soon after stepping out of it. 

“There you are. We were looking everywhere for you.” “Don’t you ever answer your phone?”

Thor and Wong spoke at the same time.

“Brother,” Loki greeted smoothly. “What are you doing up at such late an hour?”

“I can ask you the same thing,” Thor countered, eyeing Loki’s dressing gown and bare, white feet. “Another stroll?”

It was directed at Stephen, Thor’s question; before he knew it, Stephen found himself locked in a staring match, severed only by the generous clearing of Wong’s throat.

“Wong.” Stephen finally turned his attention toward his fellow Guardian whom he had not seen since the fateful incident.

Wong nodded curtly at Loki, not perturbed in the slightest by the Prince’s state of undress. Any state of dress was preferable to the comatose condition he had last seen Loki in just a week ago.

“More and more of Mordo’s victims have come forward, seeking our help.” Wong had the decency to look apologetic. “We need you back at Kamar-Taj.”

Loki’s heart sank. From the way Stephen’s hand twitched by his side just out of Loki’s reach, he could tell the Sorcerer Supreme shared the sentiment.

The moment had come far sooner than Loki could have expected.

Thor had had to choose between destroying the Bifrost and his beloved Jane Foster, something Loki had never actually sought forgiveness for.

Could he dare hope the Norns would look upon him more kindly for a change, despite his trespasses and past sins?

“Go,” Loki said softly.

Three heads turned toward him slowly, but Loki only had eyes for Stephen. He mustered a watery smile. “Your people need you.”

Stephen’s expression was unreadable, but his fingers, out of reach only seconds ago, were now grazing the back of Loki’s hand. “Will you give us a moment?”

“Take all the time you need,” Thor assented, while Wong murmured something unintelligible.

“Will you be alright?” Stephen asked quietly, his other hand reaching out automatically to touch Loki’s belly.

“I’ll be fine,” Loki said. Thankful for the privacy afforded him by The Cloak, Loki laid his hand gently atop Stephen’s and laced his fingers through. “We’ll be fine.”

“Call me.”

It was an order if Loki ever heard one, and Loki had heard plenty in this lifetime alone. He was about to roll his eyes, but Stephen was not having it. “Promise me, Loki.”

“As you wish,” Loki finally grumbled. “I promise.”

Before Stephen could do anything embarrassing like hug him goodbye or something, Loki turned around abruptly.

“My apologies, Master Wong. If we had known you were coming, we would not have kept you waiting.” Loki looked and sounded as regal in his sleepwear as he did in formal attire. “I did not get the chance to thank you properly.”

“Your Brother’s thanked me enough,” Wong said gruffly.

“Ah yes.” Thor thumped Wong on the back enthusiastically. “We have become such good friends, haven’t we, Wang?”

“Shall we, Strange?” Wong growled.

In a rare moment of gentleness, Thor patted Stephen on the shoulder. “There is always a place for you here, Stephen. I am sure we have not seen the last of you.”

“Thank you, Thor.”

Wong conjured a portal with his sling ring, and Loki had to shield his eyes from the sharp rays of the morning sun rising over Kamar-Taj.

Stephen gave Loki one last look. “Don’t forget your vitamins. And your stockings.”

Loki turned crimson. “Will you go already?”

With one last wink and a meaningful grin, Stephen stepped inside the portal.

Loki closed his eyes, not wanting to see the back of Stephen so soon after promising he would not leave –

The portal swallowed Wong and Stephen in the blink of an eye, evanescing out of existence, and with it, the heat against Loki’s face.

He opened his eyes slowly.

This up close, Thor’s borrowed eye looked grotesque, and not solely due to the quiet concern that seemed to have been amplified ten times over.

“Are you alright?”

“I am alright, Thor.”

Thor appraised his brother from head to toe. Loki may be soaking wet for some unknown reason, his hair matted to his scalp, but there was a genuine tranquillity in his voice and general demeanour that belied his bedraggled appearance.

“For once, I believe you,” Thor announced grandly.

“Gee, thanks.”

Thor pounded a giant fist on Loki’s shoulder. “Come on, Brother. Let’s get you a mop or something. Where did you even go?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“And why are you in such a state? Aren’t there towels where you went?”

Loki laughed, his footsteps light, his heart even lighter. “I’ll tell you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The novel Loki was reading is an actual book, When Breath Becomes Air, by Paul Kalanithi. 
> 
> If you're still reading, thank you for your support!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stephen has been called away to Kamar-Taj, and Loki is feeling lost and lonely.

“Anything interesting?”

Bruce yelped, and nearly cracked his spectacles as he bumped his face against the eyepiece of the microscope. “_Jesus!”_

“No, it’s just me, I’m afraid.” Loki caught sight of Bruce’s flushed face and decided apologising would not hurt, even if he was hardly at fault. “Sorry, I’ll just walk louder next time.”

“Try knocking. It’s more universally accepted.”

“Duly noted, Doctor,” Loki said distractedly. He ambled past the fume hood and gave the the neat row of vials a mildly curious glance. “Are these all mine?”

Bruce cleared his throat, clearly still slightly rattled. “Yes, they are. And Stephen’s too. Some of them.”

“Oh?” Loki peered at the tubes with more interest now. He could discern no difference between the samples. If it had not been for the labels, he doubted anyone could tell which was whose. “For what purpose?”

“Just some boring, science-y…stuff.”

Loki’s nostrils flared with indignation. “Do you know what one could do with this, Dr Banner?”

“Oh yes. The subject of interspecies procreation has always been a taboo topic even among scientists, but you have created a miracle, you and Stephen…the possibility of a breakthrough is too great to ignore.“ Bruce’s voice picked up in pitch as he grew more excited, “Once we get the complete DNA profiles of both parents, we can compare them to that of the baby, once it arrives, and – ”

Sensing the on-coming storm from the sudden drop of temperature in the atmosphere, Bruce stopped short. “Uhm, is there a problem?” he asked hesitantly.

“Am I to understand…that not only do you have my blood in here, but also the blood of the Sorcerer Supreme?” Loki enunciated each word with care, as if he was explaining a difficult concept to a child.

“Yes. Taken with his consent, of course.” The tinge of panic in Bruce’s tone was unmistakable. “Both your consent, in fact.”

“I am not talking about consent,” Loki said flatly. “I am talking about protection, and self-preservation. If this falls into the wrong hands, the ramifications can be deadly.”

Bruce let out an uneasy laugh. “I’m not unleashing a thousand-year old contagion to the masses, am I?”

“Blood magic, Banner,” Loki said, grim-faced. “It is the life force of a sorcerer. It is a dangerous weapon, one that can be used against him. So dangerous in fact that when a sorcerer is mortally wounded in battle, his death curse can take you down with him. Even years later.”

“You’re serious.”

“Dead serious. And with this amount, the magical fallout would be equivalent to that of Chernobyl.”

Bruce’s eyes widened.

“At least,” Loki emphasised.

“Holy sh – ” Bruce was about to move his myriad of combustible lab equipment away from the fume hood when he stopped. “But Strange wouldn’t have been so careless with something so volatile, would he?”

Loki said nothing.

“And come to think of it, he did do some weird, timey-wimey thing with his hands before he left,” Bruce argued, gesturing something unintelligible with his own hands. “He said I was the only one authorised to handle the blood samples, yours and his.”

Loki was silent for a while. “He said that?”

“Yup.” What was it Strange had said? Being a physicist, it had made so much sense to Bruce at the time – “You ever heard of the Law of Conservation of Energy? About how energy cannot be created or destroyed?”

“Ridiculous.” Loki sniffed. “Of course it can.”

Bruce stared. “Right. Well. That’s how energy works, Einstein said. Earth-side, at least.”

“So?”

“So,” Bruce said loudly. “Whatever dormant ‘energy’ there is in that sample of blood Stephen has sealed by magic, so no other sorcerer or practitioner of the dark arts could utilise it for blood spells or whatever else one does with blood, which is gross by the way.”

Loki’s shoulders relaxed as a huge wave of relief washed over him. “So no Chernobyl.”

“No Chernobyl.” Bruce’s eyes followed the Asgardian prince as he took a seat right across the table. Everything Loki did, he did with stealth. The stool was a creaky, old stool, but either Loki was made of air or he was just that sneaky, for it did not make a sound.

Bruce found it equally disturbing either way. “I don’t mean to be impolite or anything, but why are you here?”

“Just…looking for company.”

Bruce almost snorted out loud. _First Stephen, now Loki?_

“Guess I can be company.” He opened one of the drawers next to him and pulled out various cords and pieces of what looked like a blood pressure monitor. “Since you’re here, we might as well take down some vitals and measure your weight. Knowing Stephen, he’s going to get upset if I don’t update him on a regular basis.”

“You’ve been in contact with Stephen?”

“Of course. Haven’t you?” he asked distractedly as he squeezed the bulb a few times to check for any air leakage. Satisfied that the cuff seemed to inflate fine, he put it aside only to realise that Loki had yet to answer his question.

“Uh-oh. You haven’t.”

Loki only shrugged.

“Loki, he’s been gone almost two weeks!”

Loki shrugged again. “He’s fine.”

“Yeah of course he’s fine, but that’s hardly the point.” Bruce frowned deeply. “He hasn’t called you?”

Loki’s only answer was a surly “I don’t have a phone.”

Bruce’s mouth fell open.

“You don’t have a – ” He clammed up. This was going to be more difficult than he thought. “Don’t you guys have that magic telephone thing? What did you call it, Mindtalk?”

“It is only to be used when absolutely necessary,” Loki said, sounding very cross. At the sight of Bruce’s bulging eyes, he jutted his chin forward stubbornly. “I will not be the first to break that rule.”

Bruce tsk-tsked.

“I know you think you’re coming across as strong-willed and principled, but all you sound to me is angry.” The sudden jerking of Loki’s head told Bruce that he had hit it right on the money. “What are you pissed off about?”

“Nothing,” Loki said heatedly. “I am not ‘pissed off’ about anything.”

“Oh I believe you.” With a soft chuckle, he manoeuvred his stool around the laboratory table to get closer. “So what’s your formula then?”

“What?”

Bruce had no idea if the sort of lingo he used mattered, but to get through to Loki, he needed to make sure Loki’s Allspeak was on his side. So he settled for the most elementary way to rephrase the question.

“What’s your language of love?”

“What’s my _what?”_ Loki asked incredulously.

"Some people like gifts, some prefer quality time together..." Bruce cocked his head. "What's your thing?"

"I don't have a thing."

"Of course you don't. You don’t call him, you don’t ask how he is – ”

“I know he’s fine,” Loki spat. “He’s calling _you_, isn’t he?”

“And that drives you mad with fury,” Bruce deduced.

Loki crossed his arms.

“I did not set the rules,” he ground out through gritted teeth. “_He_ did.”

Bruce sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. Men can be…complicated.”

“And men can be _busy_,” Loki snarled. “Too busy sometimes.”

How was he going to break this delusion? As Bruce racked his brain for the right thing to say, he suddenly recalled a particularly heartfelt conversation he and Stephen had on the balcony outside Loki’s room, back when he was still unconscious after the battle with Karl Mordo.

“You mean everything to him, Loki. You and your baby.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. He told me that himself.”

Loki finally met his gaze with eyes heavily clouded by doubt and anger.

Bruce said gently. “I have no reason to lie.”

He watched the fire recede slowly and finally softened, green and serene for the first time since Loki showed up.

“ ‘It is not about the words’,” he thought he heard Loki mumble.

“I’m sorry?”

Loki repeated carefully, “It is not about saying the words. Stephen once said.” He averted his gaze. “The answer to your question.”

“Well there you have it.” Bruce gave him a pat on the back of the hand with a brazen assurance. “It is kinda obvious though.”

“What is?”

“That he’s more of an action kind of guy.”

Loki’s forehead furrowed in genuine confoundment.

Bruce hesitated for a moment, but then decided to throw caution to the wind. If he was going to be the unofficial messenger between two highly intelligent individuals with the emotional maturity of a tree, he might as well do it on his own terms.

“I mean, everything he’s done for you…you do realise people don’t do that for just anybody, right?” Bruce asked in that soothing, lulling tone Loki had grown to dislike for its power to sway. Without waiting for his answer, Bruce went straight in for the kill. “So what’s your language?”

“I don’t –” _have one._ “…know.”

How a millennia-old creature such as Loki could be so afraid of the simple concept of love was beyond him, but Bruce figured he had to at least try. “Let me rephrase. Assuming that you, uh, care deeply for him too, can you think of anything you can do, anything at all, that you know would make him happy?”

Loki sagged in his seat, momentarily taken aback. He could think of a number of things that would make not just Stephen, but both of them happy – but he sure as hell was not going to spill his secrets to Bruce Banner! For all he knew, Bruce could talk in his sleep and tell the whole of Asgard!

“I haven’t the faintest idea,” he lied.

He could feel the intensity of Bruce’s gaze behind his tiny spectacles.

“I don’t,” Loki repeated, aware of his voice rising once more.

“I do,” Bruce said quietly, lowering his eyes.

Loki followed the trail of Bruce’s gaze. True enough, it landed on his stomach, perfectly flat underneath his glamour yet hiding a secret that until recently, only a few had been privy to.

The answer to the mystery, one of many, came as swift as the wind and Loki’s heart sank.

“The ultrasound machine,” he said with a resigned sigh. “The one that lets you look at the baby’s toes and things.”

Unfazed, Bruce was quick to quip, “Among other things.”

“You of all people should know why I am so reluctant, Dr Banner.”

Bruce was quiet for a few, long seconds.

“You and Stephen have created a miracle,” he finally said, repeating his own words. “All he wants is to feel…included, I think. Involved. That he is a part of this.”

“But he _is!_” Loki insisted.

“Then show him!” Bruce exclaimed, his eyes dancing in excitement and urgency. “You need to show him that he is a part of it.”

“You really think it’s a good idea?” Loki asked in a quiet voice.

“I think it’s a good first step,” Bruce answered firmly. “Although I still think picking up the phone and just calling him would be easier, but you do you.”

Bruce watched Loki chew the inside of his lower lip, obviously still very hesitant.

“He would never hurt you, Loki.”

“You barely know him, but you trust him.” Loki looked at Bruce curiously. “Why?”

“I never did get around to telling you the story, did I?” Bruce gestured for Loki to step on the weighing scale. “About the time when I went back in time to retrieve the Time Stone from his predecessor?”

Loki suddenly wobbled, but Bruce was quick to grab him around the elbow to right him. “Whoa. You alright?”

“Yeah. _Yeah_.” Loki cleared his throat. His face burned. “Just stumbled on something.”

Bruce quickly noted down the reading on the scale and pointed to a chair. He still looked mighty suspicious. “Sit down and let me take your blood pressure.”

Loki obeyed numbly.

“She knew him, the Sorceress. Knew his name, where he was, what he was doing.” Bruce casually wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Loki’s upper arm, continuing in a monotone, “What he was going to be.”

“Really.”

“She hadn’t even met Stephen yet at the time, but she trusted him. The future Stephen, I mean.” Bruce paused for good measure. “Trusted him enough to give up the Time Stone.”

“I see,” Loki murmured in disinterest.

But there was something in Loki’s demeanour that hinted at something more than nonchalance; it resembled too much a nostalgic hunger Bruce had only ever seen in those who had lost someone dear to them. “Did you know her?”

Loki paled. “What?”

“The Ancient One. Did you know her?”

“I know that she is dead, and we do not speak of the dead here, Doctor Banner. We lay them to rest.”

Bruce’s fingers loosened around the bulb but he did not release the valve. Loki’s arm, still clamped by the tight cuff, blanched from the pressure, but he did not feel any pain, save for the one in his heart.

“She had to die, in order for Stephen to rise from her ashes to be the Sorcerer Supreme she promised the universe he would be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” Loki asked bitterly.

“Somehow I feel like I need to.”

The awkward silence did not last very long. Bruce finally realised that he still had not released the pressure from the cuff. In his haste, he ripped the cuff off Loki’s blanched arm, eliciting a wince from his patient as the blood returned in a rush, sending pins and needles up and down the limb.

“You eating okay?”

“I eat fine,” Loki said morosely.

“Your weight’s static.”

“Must be something wrong with the scale.”

“Must be,” Bruce said coolly.

“Don’t look at me like that, Bruce,” Loki said, sounding very tired all of a sudden. “I just haven’t had much appetite for anything lately.”

“But no more vomiting?”

“No. Not anymore, thank the Norns,” Loki muttered.

“You craving for anything? I’m sure I can get one of our friends in New York to send – ”

“No.” Loki shook his head vehemently. “I’m fine.”

“Well, if you don’t want this to reach Stephen or your brother, you need to give me something.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Doctor Banner.” With a roll of his eyes, Loki relented. “Lately all I want to eat is mushrooms.”

“Surely the kitchen is well-stocked with mushrooms – ”

Loki shook his head. “Wild mushrooms. And I have to pick them myself, but Thor hasn’t been very…indulgent with me lately.”

Bruce stared. “You’re bonkers, you know that.”

Loki shrugged.

“I’ve been called worse. I once hunted down a steppe bison and killed it with my bare hands, so.” And since he had picked up a thing or two about bargaining from Stephen, “If you put in a good word with my Brother, I will do as you ask.”

“The ultrasound, you mean?”

“Sure. But I need to forage, and I do not think Thor would let me go alone.”

“I don’t know the first thing about foraging.”

“Doesn’t have to be you, Bruce.”

“True that.” Bruce stuck out a hand. “Deal.”

As they shook on it, he wondered if he had not somehow dug a hole for himself. But alas, it was too late for regrets. “Now if that is all, Your Highness, I kinda have work to do. Your blood isn’t going to centrifuge itself, you know.”

Loki rose to his feet.

“I shall leave you to it.” He was about to touch the exit panel on the wall before something stayed his hand, an unspoken question that had long lingered at the back of his mind.

“Bruce?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

Loki swept his eyes across the laboratory. “All this.”

Bruce shrugged. “New York is roasting at this time of year. And I needed a vacation.”

“Some vacation,” Loki managed. At the sight of the beatific smile on Bruce’s face, Loki felt his resolve harden. He needed to know, and he needed to know _now_.

“The things you’ve done for me since you’ve been here…you don’t just do that for anybody.”

“No,” Bruce agreed readily. “I guess not.”

“As a favour for Thor, then.”

Bruce tut-tutted. “You have a shot at happiness here. Real happiness.”

He hesitated for an instant but recovered swiftly. Loki had the courage to ask. It was only right that Bruce mustered the courage to answer. “I know it sounds weird, but I want to see it come true. For _you_.”

“Why?” Loki pressed, “You know what I am. You have seen the monster that I am.”

Bruce shook his head.

“You of all people should know, Loki,” he chastised gently. “If you can’t make this work, then…what hope is there for me?”

They locked gazes for the longest time, before giving each other a nod of mutual understanding…and hope.

Man to man, monster to monster.

“Thank you.” Loki’s voice cracked.

Bruce shook his head again. “Thank _you.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update! As some of you know, I've just had a baby, so things have been a bit crazy. Magical, but crazy. Sorry for the wait, and hope you enjoy!


	20. Chapter 20

_New Asgard_

“Make yourself comfortable, Highness. We’ll be with you shortly.”

Before Loki could catapult himself onto the bed as he would have unthinkingly done, Bruce grabbed his elbow and steered him toward the step stool. It was good thinking on Bruce’s part, or Loki would have fallen flat on his face; his centre of gravity had been off lately. He could not even bring himself to look in the mirror if he happened to pass one in the hallway, though no one had been daring enough to comment on his waddle as of yet.

“Why are we doing this again?”

“It’s just standard procedure, Loki.”

Loki looked around. Bruce’s workspace had been transformed into a makeshift examination room, a hybrid of a doctor’s office and a physicist’s laboratory. “Okay…but does _he_ have to listen in?”

“Aw, you wound me, Lokes,” Tony tsk-tsked. “I like it when my friends share these life-changing moments with me. I feel so valued and all kinds of included.”

Loki cringed inwardly. He really could do without Tony Stark giving him suggestive winks from halfway around the world, but Bruce did plead with him beforehand to behave.

“So. We ready to look at this baby or not? I know you said no gender reveal parties but my offer still stands! You can use my Tower and light it up in whatever colour you want, just don’t make it confusing. On second thought, do! I’d love to see what the press would make of it.”

_Breathe. Just breathe. You can do this._

“My goodness, Games. I know I haven’t seen you in a while, but what _are_ you wearing?” Tony gawked. “I’m gonna have to get Pepper to send you some catalogues, I’m sure some of her designer friends does maternity wear – ”

_That’s it. _

Loki knew deep breathing exercises were hogwash. Behave? Sure, he could behave. But that did not mean he could not hurt anybody in his immediate vicinity.

He reached out and grabbed the collar of the person closest to him.

“Hey!” Bruce yelped, and nearly crashed into the brand-new ultrasound machine.

“Careful with that,” Tony’s tinny voice cautioned through the speakers, “You’re going to void the warranty if you get blood all over it like you did the last time.”

He craned his neck to get a better look before remembering that he was only a picture on the screen. “Bummer.”

“Nothing to see here, nothing to see,” Stephen said hurriedly, pulling the video call monitor toward him. “How are you, Stark?”

“Fine, thank you for asking, Doctor,” Tony answered courteously. “And how are you? You look stressed. Shall we do something about those eye bags?”

On any other day, Loki could half-listen to Stephen and Tony Stark banter with each other till kingdom come (they really made quite an entertaining duo, not that Loki would ever admit it) but today Loki just felt…homicidal. His back hurt, his feet hurt, everything hurt.

Someone else needed to be in pain too.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t throttle him right now,” Loki murmured.

“Uh…because that would be murder?”

“Manslaughter,” Loki corrected sweetly. “In the name of hormones. And if it’s committed by long-range magic, no one would know it’s me.”

He gripped the back of Bruce’s neck tighter. “Try again.”

“Because despite appearances, everyone is here for you. And everyone is just as nervous as you,” Bruce said, reaching behind to wrangle Loki’s fingers off his neck with more ease than Loki expected. “Now be _nice_.”

“Egg waffles.”

“What?”

“Egg waffles or I’m out of here.”

Bruce sighed. A compromise was a compromise after all. “Strange.”

“Yeah?”

“Egg waffles,” Bruce relayed the message.

“Sure.” At this stage, catering to Loki’s wants and needs to obviate murder had become second nature to Stephen. No mountain too high, no valley too deep, no river too wide and all that.

Tony seemed to think so too from the way he was nodding away, despite not knowing what was going on in the background. “I know this trendy dessert bar in Tribeca that makes the best egg waffles – ”

Loki shook his head slowly. “Hong Kong.” He tipped his head. “Tell him.”

“But he’s right here!” Bruce protested.

“Yeah, and they’re in cahoots together.” Loki’s eyes narrowed. “All of you are. You and your machines.”

“Honestly, Loki…” Bruce threw his hands up, his entire demeanour the epitome of exasperation. “Strange – !”

“Yeah, Hong Kong, I heard. I am right here, you know,” Stephen said coolly. “Tell His Highness that it is currently 4 a.m. in Hong Kong local time, if he could just wait and bear with us for a few more hours? We’ve really got our work cut out for us.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Of course you knew what the local time was.”

“Name me a city and I’ll blow your mind,” Stephen said proudly. His expression then turned serious. “How are things on your end?”

“We are ready to start anytime,” Tony reported. “You’ve studied the drawings my engineers sent you?” At Stephen’s nod of approval, he continued, “The contractors are waiting on my decision. Yours, actually.”

“Stephen, we should do this now that he’s cooperative,” Bruce said loudly.

“I’m right here, you arse.”

Bruce tut-tutted. “Language, Highness.”

Stephen rose and took his rightful place by the bed, finally obscuring most of Loki’s body from view.

“I thought we’ve already decided where to have the baby,” Loki complained.

“I know, but the scan today will tell us if the placenta’s migrated enough to allow us to attempt a normal delivery,” Stephen said quietly. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Loki searched Stephen’s face. “There’s still a chance?”

“We’ll find out in a minute.”

Loki looked uncertainly in the direction of the computer.

Stephen followed the line of Loki’s gaze. “He’s our biggest stakeholder. He needs to know the level of care the new paediatric wing he’s building for us needs to be so he can get the specifications right.”

“You need to decide if a special care nursery would be enough or if we’re going the state-of-the-art NICU level way,” Tony quipped. “Not that expense is an issue but like I told your boy toy here…” At Stephen’s scathing glare, he added quickly, “Time _is_ of the essence. We should have started building already. You’re what, seven, eight months along now?”

Resigned, Loki lay back on the bed and murmured, “I’ve stopped counting. I don’t see the point.”

He could feel the exchange of glances all around even behind closed eyes. It had been a tough fight but as the child grew inside him, Loki knew he could no longer indulge in the luxury of ignorance, forever lost in the delusion of control.

He had none left, that much he knew.

“I am ready, Doctor. Do as you must.”

The tense, heavy aura lifted almost instantaneously the moment Stephen’s probe captured the first images of the baby, full of vigour and life; even Tony Stark felt compelled to comment, now that he was finally seeing it on live stream with his own eyes.

“That…is a baby.”

“Yes, Stark. It is,” Stephen said, allowing himself the tiniest of smiles.

“An actual baby.” Tony had yet to pick his jaw off the floor. “An actual, honest-to-god, human baby.”

“Yes, Stark, we heard you!” Loki snapped. A barrage of emotions began to surge from deep inside him. Recognising it as anger, he did not think twice about giving it free rein. “Human? I know you’re excited, but I would caution you against speaking too soon.”

“Loki,” Stephen called his name quietly.

“Nothing’s gone according to plan so far, has it?” he asked bitingly, powerless to stop the outpouring of his own caustic words. “This machine of yours, can it tell us anything beyond the crudest measurements? Sure, I don’t see any horns, doesn’t mean he doesn’t have them.”

“Hey, Loki – ” Tony tried to cut in.

“How about the baby’s skin? Can your machine tell us what colour it is?”

“Loki, stop it,” Stephen growled. “It’s not important, you know that.”

“Isn’t it?” Loki abruptly flung an arm over his eyes in a gesture of defiance.

I’m sorry, Tony mouthed, looking as guilty as hell. Stephen waved his friend’s distress away. Throughout his short-lived career as a doctor, he had seen his fair share of patients succumbing to denial, depression, and the most primal emotion of all…fear.

Like a sheep in wolf’s clothing, it often masqueraded as anger.

His hand still holding the probe, Stephen rested the weight of his wrist on Loki’s hip. “You alright?”

Loki gave the smallest of nods, but the wobbling of his chin said otherwise.

“Do you want to do this some other time?” he asked.

Loki shook his head. “Just be quick about it. Please.” The last plea was meant for Stephen’s ears alone, but everyone fell silent all the same.

The clicks and clacks as Stephen manoeuvred the various controls and commands on the keyboard were the only sounds that filled the room for the next few minutes. He had been looking forward to this for weeks, counting the days until his return to Asgard, near-catastrophic postcoital bleeding aside - now that he finally got to see his unborn son’s energetic antics as he tumbled merrily inside the womb, everyone was moping.

He hid his disheartened sigh behind a series of polite coughs, which, at the very least, got Loki to uncover his eyes and peer at him inquisitively. Touched, Stephen was just relieved to see that there were no tears.

“Is he alright?” Loki finally asked.

Stephen smiled. “He’s fine, Loki.”

And now for the moment of truth –

“Let’s look at the placenta now, shall we?” The ultrasound probe swooped caudally, gliding down Loki’s gel-slicked belly toward the pelvis till Stephen found what he was looking for…and his heart sank.

The collection of dense placental tissue was right where it was the last time Stephen saw it. It had not budged from the womb opening at all, certainly not since the night Wong and Stephen’s healing spells had tethered it in place all those months ago.

Loki took one look at Stephen’s face and his entire body deflated. His arms fell to his side.

He had once accused Stephen of being afraid…begrudged Stephen’s inability to accept things of which he could not see.

_What you cannot see, you cannot love._

Had they been alone, Loki could have sought comfort in knowing Stephen would never begrudge Loki _his_ failure to accept what was now obvious for everyone to see.

_Chin up_, he told himself. _This is hardly the first time your body’s failed you. _

“Well. That’s that then,” Loki said with a forced smile.

_At least you still have your mind this time._

“I’m sorry, Lokes.”

Loki sniffed furiously. “It’s not your fault.”

Despite knowing the odds were never in their favour, the devastation weighed upon Stephen all the same. He reached out for Loki’s hand just as Loki reached for his. _I’m sorry, Loki._

Bruce could not bear it any longer. There was a baby coming. It could be a long time coming, or it could be very soon, but as far as he was concerned, things had not changed.

He grabbed both Loki and Stephen by the shoulder and gave them a good shake.

“It’s no one’s fault,” he stressed. “It’s just one of those things.”

“So what happens now?” Loki asked dully.

“Nothing’s changed. We go ahead with the plan. With Tony’s help, we’ll get everything set up and when the time comes, we will deliver the baby here, as per your wishes,” Bruce said, stepping up to the plate. Stephen was looking a bit shell-shocked himself.

“We’ll just have to be prepared for any eventuality,” Bruce said. He hoped he came across as convincing as he sounded in his head. “We’ll be ready.”

*********************************

They were not prepared.

Loki swore he had not been hiding the contractions but having had a number of Braxton-Hicks episodes before, it was easy to see how he could have mistaken them for another false alarm. Acknowledging they were the real thing somehow made the pain a hundred times worse, and by the time Thor was informed, Loki was half out of his mind with agony.

“Brother, perhaps it is best you take to your bed,” Thor said anxiously. Loki had been pacing the room like a caged tiger for a good half hour now; the Healers had been trying to get close without much luck.

“I need to walk.” Loki panted. “I need to – ”

He lurched toward the wall when another contraction hit him hard, his hands blindly groping for the window for escape, or air, or anyone to reach in and sever his head from his body, but he doubted even that would do him any good. It was the kind of agony with reach that traversed dimensions – green tendrils of erratic energy crackled along the steel bars as they creaked under the force of his pull.

The worst one yet, the contraction seemed to stretch on forever; as Loki prayed and prayed for relief, he was barely aware of two pairs of hands holding him up as the pain finally drove him to his knees.

“Loki!” he heard Stephen call in a voice much tighter than usual.

Loki tried to wrest himself free but the floor felt slippery, his knees sliding across it as though he was gliding on ice.

“Oh Norns, Loki…” Thor uttered the softest cry. “Strange.”

Loki wondered what could have rattled his brother so. He forced his eyes open but for some reason, all he could see was red, and nothing but red – he blinked furiously, but still his vision did not clear. 

“You’re alright,” he heard Stephen murmur over and over, “You’re alright.”

A fresh contraction began its tell-tale spasm at the base of his spine. In a matter of seconds, it travelled in a ripple up and around his middle, reaching a crushing crescendo that tore a strangled scream from deep within his soul, and somewhere in the background, someone moaned. _Thor?_

Loki had barely sucked in a breath when he heard a peculiar splashing sound, and this time not only did Loki feel the gush of something hot and sticky run down his thighs, he could _smell_ it.

Extreme nausea roiled his stomach and he gagged.

“Bucket!” Someone yelled. It curiously sounded like the Valkyrie – when did she get here? – No one but Valkyrie had reflexes as fast, judging by the speed with which the sick basin was shoved under his head, but the gentle hand pulling the hair from the side of his face, that couldn’t be hers, could it?

He hurled, too blinded by pain and sickness.

“There goes the peppers,” someone murmured. Loki wanted to laugh.

Hands, familiar and unfamiliar alike, lifted him off the puddle of blood on the floor and carried him gently to the bed.

His robes squelched. His tongue suddenly felt too heavy, too big for his mouth.

He remembered being bitten by a snake once. Poisonous, one of the most venomous of its kind to be found in all of Asgard. It felt a lot like that.

Loki tried to lift his head, but that too, was just as heavy as, if not heavier than the rest of him. The world went momentarily dark so he let his heavy body collapse backward, but not before he caught a glimpse of Thor, the only bright thing in the whole room –

The look of sheer terror on his normally gregarious brother’s face was the same as the one Thor had worn back then too.

“What’s wrong with him?” Loki blinked blearily. “Valkyrie?”

“Shhh. Just breathe, Highness.”

_Wha –_

A mask was placed over his face by somebody whose face he could not see, and a rush of sweet-smelling gas flowed into his lungs. After a few deep breaths, the haze of pain miraculously lifted, and with it, the dimness around him, just enough for him to make out his brother’s stricken face once more.

“It’s alright, Brother,” Loki slurred. “Mother will be here soon.”

“He shouldn’t be saying such things.” Thor’s distress level was escalating with each passing minute, he was dangerously becoming physical. He grabbed Stephen by the arm. “Why is he saying these things?”

“It’s the nitrous oxide,” Stephen tried to reason, gently extricating himself from Thor’s exquisitely painful grip. “It’s a mild sedative, and it should take the edge off the pain.”

“He’s bleeding way too much.” On the verge of panic, Thor’s hands fumbled uselessly with the sheets for want of something to do, afraid to touch and afraid not to. “Can’t you stop the bleeding?”

“He’s in active labour. There is no stopping it.” Stephen’s face was pale as he shoved a couple of pillows under Loki’s legs and tilted the bed head-down. “Can somebody get Dr Palmer on the phone please? She should be in the scrub room getting ready.”

He reached up to manually squeeze the bag of saline to run the fluids faster. “And tell Dr Banner we might be needing the blood sooner than we thought.”

Thor knew he should give the Healers some space, but he could not seem to move, his feet soldered to the floor.

“Come away, Majesty.”

He ignored the Valkyrie. Thor did not expect her to understand.

“Loki,” he called quietly. His brother’s eyes were open, but he could not tell much beyond that. He could not even tell if Loki was listening. And all the while, blood was still pumping out of him like a severed artery, soaking the pristine white sheets beneath.

“Loki,” he tried again, braving the mesh of tubes and wires to clutch at his brother’s hand. It was ice-cold. He gave it a cajoling squeeze. “Brother, it’s me.”

Loki must have recognised his touch. They had held hands a thousand times before after all. “Thor…”

“I’m here.” Thor’s heart flipped. “I’m right here, Loki.”

“I don’t want to go.” Loki’s quiet confession was a dying plea.

Thor’s eyes misted. _I don’t want you to._

“You’ll be alright. They’re going to take care of you. You’ll be alright, just you wait.”

Loki’s eyes, a pale, washed-out green, with none of their usual lustre, brightened slightly at Thor’s bumbling words. Don’t go, they seemed to say. Be the silent message a figment of his imagination or Loki’s last wish, letting his brother down at this juncture was unthinkable.

“I am right here. I am not going anywhere.”

A keening, whining sound escaped from Loki’s throat, heralding the onset of another contraction. Once again, the entire room was filled with the scent of blood, thick and cloying, and the harsh sounds of Loki gasping into the face mask.

“Doctor Strange.” The runner nurse hung up the phone. “That was Doctor Palmer. She’s with the anaesthetist, and they’re both ready for you.”

“Good.” Stephen nodded tersely. “We need to push him. Now!”

He urgently lashed out his foot to knock back the locking pedals on the wheels of the hospital bed, but when the Healers tried to push the bed toward the door, it would not budge.

“Thor,” he growled. “Move!”

“Majesty, you need to let him go.” When Thor did not answer, Valkyrie decided that enough was enough. She pushed forward and placed a firm hand on her King’s wrist. _“Thor.”_

Thor released Loki’s icy fingers. He could feel something in his chest break.

_“_You take care of him, Stephen.”

Stephen barely paid him any heed, his attention solely on Loki. “Let’s go. Go, go!”

*********************************

“How are you holding up?” A voice startled him from behind. 

“Bruce.” Stephen unfroze, and resumed pulling on his second layer of gloves. “Sorry. Didn’t realise it was you.”

He held his hands up at eye level as he waited for Bruce to tie the series of knots on the back of his surgical gown.

“Are you religious?” The question came out of the blue, but if it had to come from someone, Stephen would rather it came from Bruce. At least he did not have to resort to lying.

“No,” he answered bluntly. When his sister died that summer afternoon all those years ago, no God had been listening. Or if any did, it certainly was not one powerful enough to bring her back.

“Me neither,” Bruce said, shrugging. He cinched the final tie around Stephen’s waist securely. “Somehow now seems like a good time as any to start believing in something.”

Stephen looked through the window of the scrub room overlooking the operating theatre. Loki lay fully sedated, his appearance that of one fast asleep, except for the breathing tube sticking out of his mouth and the bags of blood hanging from the IV stand above his head.

Christine Palmer stood over her patient, eyes closed and arms clasped close to her body as if in meditation.

“I believe in her.”

Bruce followed the line of Stephen’s gaze. “Yeah?”

Stephen nodded. “With all my heart.”

As if she were listening, Christine opened her eyes and caught Stephen staring across the adjoining rooms. His heart skipped a beat, but it resumed its normal beating as they exchanged nods. She cocked her head. _Get your ass in here._

Stephen took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

*********************************

It was dark outside when Loki finally awoke from his long nap. The analgesia was wearing off and he was starting to feel the first throbs of pain from the incision spanning the width of his lower abdomen. Someone had taken the baby away to be nursed, judging by the empty cot beside him.

Just when he thought he was alone, he heard the shuffling of someone’s feet across the darkened room.

“You’re still here.”

Stephen sank into the armchair, looking all shades of haggard but content. “Where else would I be?”

Loki mustered a smile. It widened when he finally saw what Stephen was holding in his arms.

“In the olden days, new fathers would pat themselves on the back, light a fat cigar and head for the pub,” he said lightly.

Stephen snorted loudly. “Have you seen the waiting lounge? That sneaky bastard somehow managed to build the first ever bar, in a hospital, in the _world_.”

Loki would have laughed had it not been for his stitches. “I thought it was _you_ who approved his plans.”

“Of course I did. He labelled it as ‘pantry’,” Stephen said, sounding more amused than he should.

“Once a Stark, always a Stark,” Loki sighed. Impatience winning out in the end, he craned his neck as far as it would go and his throbbing abdomen would allow. “Are you going to hand him over or am I going to have to beg?”

“Oh, this?” Stephen teased, but he quickly placed the baby on Loki’s chest before he did the unthinkable yet typical, like jumping out of the bed or something.

They spent the next few minutes silently watching their newborn son, Stephen admiring, Loki scrutinising.

“He has such tiny feet.” Loki pill-rolled the baby’s ankle between his thumb and index finger. “Damn near kicked his way out of me once or twice…how could he have such tiny feet?”

Stephen took the baby’s other ankle. “He has a mole on the sole of his foot.”

“What does that mean?”

“Some people say it means he will be a great traveller one day.”

Loki’s eyes softened. “Of course he will. I will take him to places one could only dream of, worlds beyond your wildest imagination.”

“_We_ will take him places,” Stephen corrected. Loki offered his lips for the faux pas, which were gladly accepted. “What shall we call him?”

Loki studied the fullness of his son’s lips. They resembled the ones he had just kissed.

“I would like to name him after Dr Palmer.” Obviously Loki had done some thinking. “Christine.”

“As flattered as I’m sure she’s going to be when she finds out, I think we need to think of what’s best for our son in the long run.”

“Christopher? Chris?”

A look of distaste crossed Stephen’s face. “I know a few Chris-es. I wish I didn’t. Besides, it’s too popular. I was thinking of something more unique.”

“Would be nice to name our boy after her, that’s all,” Loki said lightly. “I am forever indebted to her, nevertheless.”

Stephen went quiet. After a while, “Christian.”

Loki’s forehead furrowed –

“That’s the male version of her name,” Stephen clarified. “It means the ‘Follower of Christ’.”

“Christian,” Loki mulled. Then as though he was struck by an epiphany, he brightened, eyes dancing with delight. “Stian.”

“Stian?”

“Comes from the Old Norse Stígandr,” Loki explained. “It means ‘The Wanderer’. The one who is swift on his feet.”

“I like it.”

“You do?”

Stephen nodded. “I do. It’s perfect.”

“He will travel great distances…” Loki promised, his eyes misty and full of adoration. “But he will follow his own path. No one else’s.”

Stephen watched Loki kiss Stian’s forehead softly, and something inside him changed forever. “He will.”

He savoured the moment, this quiet haven where only the three of them existed and nothing else mattered. “And the middle name?”

“Does he need one?”

“A lot of people do. I have one.” Stephen realised he had never told Loki what it was. “It’s Vincent.”

Loki lifted his head slowly, seeing his lover with new eyes. “It suits you.” He breathed in deeply. “Go on, then. Choose a name.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve chosen, now it’s your turn.” He made a face. “As long as it isn’t Anthony.”

Stephen laughed. “You’re never going to be friends, are you.”

“Oh no, quite the contrary. I simply do not wish to see Banner’s heart broken,” Loki said coolly. “What do you have in mind?”

It came to him as naturally as breathing. “Theo.”

Loki’s chest stilled as all air left him. “Stephen.”

Stephen nodded his head. He had never been surer of anything.

“Stian Theo Strange.”

He reached for Loki’s hand,

“After the two people who loved us once…”

– and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “The two people who sacrificed, so that we could be together.”

Loki’s eyes watered. “Strange. Come here.”

“What?”

“Come closer.”

Stephen obliged; the minute his face came within kissing distance, Loki lunged and crushed their lips together.

They kissed until tears ran down their cheeks and dropped onto their son’s face, their hearts near bursting with love and promise, the sound of crackling thunder breaking the sky –

Frowning, Stephen pulled away slightly. “Was that your stomach rumbling?”

Loki nodded bashfully.

“You hungry?”

Loki nodded again. “And thirsty as Hel.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Reluctantly, he gave Loki one last peck on the lips. True enough, they were dry as hell – something Stephen should have noticed, for labour was a tiring process after all. “What would you like? Some soup and crackers? Juice?”

Loki’s stomach rumbled again. “Anything. Everything.”

“I’ll be back.”

Loki leaned back against his mountain of pillows and closed his eyes. As far as recovery was concerned, he was on the right path, his seidr working synergistically with all the medication he had been given to repair his body. Despite this, the deep-seated exhaustion lingered, coaxing him to return to the realm of restorative sleep. Stephen had better hurry with his food.

The automatic doors opened with a whoosh. Loki smiled.

“That was quick,” he almost said but stopped short. The person standing by his side had a completely different aura.

“How are you feeling?”

Taking into account the person asking, Loki answered with the one response that really mattered. “Alive.”

A satisfied nod. “May I hold my nephew?”

Loki sighed. “If you must.”

Despite his Herculean stature, Thor was surprisingly gentle.

“You’re a natural,” Loki said reluctantly.

Thor beamed. “He feels strong. Tiny, but strong.” He linked their little fingers together, uncle and nephew. “And my, my…what beautiful eyes you have!”

Loki snorted. “Stephen says most human babies are born with blue eyes. Don’t get cocky.”

Thor laughed, sifting his fingers through the fine strands of Stian’s glossy black hair. With a determined thrust of his chest, he began rattling off his series of pledges with the practiced ease of someone who had put a lot of thinking into it.

“I’m going to teach him hunting, navigating, how to read the stars, how to start a fire…”

“Thor.”

“How to build shelters, foraging, horseback riding…what else…”

“Oh dear. If you’re teaching him everything, what is left for Stephen and I?”

“Magic, naturally,” Thor said, without hesitation. “I mean, he’s half-witch, half-wizard. Surely there’s an ounce of magic in him somewhere.”

“I am not a witch.” Loki’s lips twitched. “You…would have me teach him magic?”

“Of course. _I_ can’t. I would if I could, but someone once told me I’m as magic as a can of sardines.”

Loki did not laugh. “Openly?”

Thor was quiet. “This is New Asgard, Loki. Our new beginning. Remember?”

“I remember,” Loki said softly.

“As long as I am alive, he will not want for anything. He will not be shamed and he will not be ashamed.”

He marvelled at the precious gift in his arms. The future of Asgard. “He will be loved.”

And this time, Loki did leap out of bed, stitches be damned.

If Thor was surprised, he did not show it; he returned Loki’s embrace as fiercely as he could, while still keeping a drowsing baby drowsing. Never mind the fact that the baby’s mother was drenching Thor’s clothes with his tears.

The Norns were smiling upon them today, Thor was sure of it.

“You great oaf.”

“I love you too, Brother Mine."

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that wraps it up, folks! I can't believe it's been a year and a half since The Contract, how time flies. I'm still every bit in love with this pairing as ever. I'm not sure if I'd ever write another Mpreg fic, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, and I hope it was fun to read.
> 
> Thank you to all my loyal readers, your support has been invaluable. Without you, these stories would have remained either drafts or simply fleeting daydreams.


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